


This Is Not Freedom

by maqcy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Corporate, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Auctions, Betrayal, Blindfolds, Blood and Violence, Coercion, Demons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Fear, Gen, Good Demons, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Maids, Mansion Fic, Master/Slave, Maternal-ness, Mistrust, Moorland, Multi, Other, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Violence, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Remote Places, Restraints, Slave auction, Slavery, Violence, possibly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-11-09 20:31:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11112297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maqcy/pseuds/maqcy
Summary: “What would you have me do?” Jasper asked. Cole rubbed his jaw,“I like your,” he paused, “spark."“So I would be your tamed tiger.” Jasper said. Cole met Jasper’s eyes and saw the power behind them,“Yes,” he agreed, “but a pretence. You and I would know that it was not real.”---Cole doesn't want a demon in his home, but his mother is insistent and Cole ends up acquiring a deeply world-weary demon for an insultingly low price. Jasper both infuriates and fascinates Cole; arrogant and yet constantly on guard, powerful and yet powerless, slow to trust and yet deeply loyal - Jasper makes Cole want things he can't have.





	1. Choice

 “She’s young enough to be beautiful but old enough to have been perfectly trained in how to behave. She’ll make you look good.” The man was looking at Cole intensely, his fingers making a steeple under his chin. Cole looked dispassionately at a picture in the man’s file, his expression making it clear that he wasn’t interested. The female was smiling like she’d read in a textbook how to show joy and tried to mimic it. Cole shuddered at the very idea of having her smile like that at him. The man sighed, “Alright,” he said, admitting defeat, “Fine. How about this one?” The demon pictured was male, older than Cole but not by much. He looked stalwart and cold. These demons; they were _things_ and it disgusted Cole. “Perfect behaviour record, previous owner was-”

“No.”

“Mr Devon,” The man frowned, lowering the file, “You need a smart investment, not a piece of artwork.” Cole gave him a cold look and the man sulkily brought up the next file. Cole refused before the man had opened his mouth,

“Next.” The man, his brow heavily furrowed, flipped through the thick stack of files, showing Cole each picture briefly. Cole was sitting back, despairing under his mask of inattention, but he didn’t react until they had neared the bottom of the stack, “There. Him.”

“Mr Devon,” The man protested, dismissing the demon at a glance, “He is _not_ a wise choice.” Cole sat forwards suddenly and the man shifted backwards. Cole made his gaze deliberately unnerving,

“I don’t want a demon in my house,” he said, “but if I have to, I’m choosing it.” The man’s tone was decidedly chilly as he replied,

“As you wish, Mr Devon.” Cole sat back and the man relaxed enough to say, “That demon is dangerous. He’s a code red. Practically feral. It’s your skin but I’m obliged to tell you.” Cole nodded to acknowledge the warning but said nothing more and the man packed away the files and saw himself out, leaving Cole alone, sat at the oak desk in his father’s grand office and feeling like a child. The file was sat on the table with the demon glaring outwards with a spark none of the others had had. As Cole skimmed the information he found the demon’s history to be littered with escape, arson and murder attempts, incidents of violence and wilful disobedience. The price tag was insultingly low. Cole flipped the page over and winced. There was a whole page of thumbnail pictures showing the demon being forcefully restrained in order to photograph welts and bruises graphic enough to turn Cole’s stomach, even in black and white. Each picture showed a different set of injuries – punishments for the offenses listed below – with the demon reduced to a collection of body parts, photographed individually, only meant to inform the buyer what they would be receiving to prevent legal disputes. In the third to last, the demon’s expression was visible with his face laid sideways, the exhaustion in his half-open eyes offset by a sneer at his lips that showed teeth in a display of animal aggression; a gruesome gash marred the left side of his face. The pictures were spread over a time period of six years with photographs of new injuries taken each time he was sold on. The earliest showing the demon as a sickening slight adolescent and the latest being little more than a month ago, the demon impressively toned, though he still looked on the sharper side of healthy.

Cole scanned down the list of owners with a raised eyebrow; the demon had had twelve, a number far out of proportion with the six years he’d been on the market. One early owner had kept the demon for over seven years but Cole’s expression darkened when he saw how the dates of ownership lined up with half a page of photographed injuries. Two owners had kept for the demon for the obligatory month only, several for no more than two.

Cole sat back, second-guessing his decision for the first time. Perhaps he should have chosen the disturbingly doll-like female who would smile prettily and disappear into the background. Cole rubbed his forehead and shoved the demon’s file in a drawer just before his assistant knocked on the door, bringing news that one of the company’s biggest investors had drawn up and was on her way. Cole nodded and pulled his head back into the present.


	2. Forty-six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole sees Jasper for the first time.

After a long day of meetings, listening to his advisors argue about cutting employees’ jobs, Cole sat in his office with a glass of wine and a throbbing headache. Ryan, Cole’s assistant, was the only person allowed to come into his office without knocking and he did so now, bringing several files tucked under his arm and the brown notebook Cole had come to loath. Cole cut over Ryan before he could begin,

“Tell me only what’s urgent. Anything else can wait until after the weekend.” Ryan nodded,

“Five things then, sir. The first is to do with your mother;” Cole listened silently, “I’ve had her advisor, a Mr Jeffrey, badgering me to finalise the arrangements concerning that demon you’re bidding on this Sunday-” Cole waved it away,

“It’s fine, I’ll be there.”

“Yes sir,” Ryan said, giving Cole a pointed look, “But I was informed just now that your mother intends to accompany you.” Cole was silent for a moment,

“Fine,” He said finally.

Cole listened half-heartedly while Ryan outlined the difficulty with a transaction between themselves and a supplier, the result of a complaint one of their senior managers had filed against them as well as some logistical issues related to the unseasonably cold weather. There was also a social dinner he would have to attend Saturday evening.

“That’s all then, sir,” Ryan said, closing his notebook, “I’ll drop off a copy of the accounts before I head home.”

Cole acknowledged him wearily and waited for the door to quietly click shut before he got unsteadily to his feet and dropped down onto the padded leather couch his father had had installed for times such as these; when he worked too late to be worth returning home. Exhaustion overwhelmed Cole and he slipped into an uneasy sleep.

 ...

Cole was woken by one of the maids who entered, singing softly, and let out a small scream when she saw Cole sprawled over the couch.

Cole sniffed thickly and struggled up to seated, wincing against the dull morning light,

“Mr Devon, I’m very sorry-” The maid apologised in a trembling murmur, startled and ill at ease. Cole saw his reputation reflected back at him in her wide, dark eyes when he got to his feet with a groan, standing head and shoulders over the petite woman,

“Fault’s all mine.” Cole assured her quickly, patting his crumpled trousers for his wallet and passed her a note, “My apologies for startling you.” He glanced around his office and gave her another note on a whim, “You do a good job,” he said as the thought occurred to him, “It always smells clean when I come back.” The maid stared at him,

“I do my best, Mr Devon.” She managed, carefully polite and Cole nodded and left to climb into one of the company carriages to head home. He thought, as the carriage trundled through the street and out into back-country, that he wasn’t exactly dreading the visit from his mother but he wasn’t looking forward to it either.

“Cole.” His mother smiled tightly when she arrived later that morning, drawing the fine winter gloves from her fingers and passing them elegantly to her aide before drawing Cole close to wrap her arms around him.She felt small and breakable in his hold and he squeezed her only lightly. “How are you?” She asked, her voice sounding wispily perfumed,

“Very well, thank you.” Cole said, somewhat more formally that he’d intended, “We should get going.” He said, checking his watch. His mother patted his shoulder, moving past him towards the drawing room,

“Don’t worry,” she said, “There’s time for refreshments.”

“But mother-”

“I have a great deal more experience in these matters than you, dear. Trust my judgement.” Cole raised his eyebrows.

“I- of course.” He followed her through into the brightly lit room to take a seat opposite her. The room was a stunning shade of blue, a colour that stuck Cole as both beautiful and unnatural, like the specimens of vivid blue rainforest butterflies which, when pinned to dull brown board in a dull museum, glowed surreally brightly. He generally avoided that room.

After a few minutes of sharing trivial conversation, Liana brought in refreshments and Cole’s mother, his fingers slender and veined around her slim flute of warm, honeyed milk, caught Cole’s eyes weightily,

“What is this Isaz has been telling me about your choice of demon?” Isaz, Cole reasoned, was his mother’s advisor; the disagreeable man who had attempted to counsel Cole on choosing a demon.

 “Did he say ‘unsuitable choice’, by any chance?” Cole said, feeling reduced in size under her disapproval. His mother didn’t frown but her lips stayed in a perfectly flat line and Cole sighed heavily, leaning back to look up at the ceiling, which displayed the golden birds of an ancient myth. Cole had never learned the story behind it. The mural depicted a deific male holding a handful of luminous fire, surrounded by sky so real the ceiling appeared almost like a window. [Prometheus] Cole sighed and brought his gaze back to his mother, his expression making it clear that she was being very patient with him, “You instructed that I acquire a demon, for propriety, as I recall. You didn’t stipulate any other conditions.”

“I am aware of that.” His mother said sharply, “Apparently I didn’t consider the possibility that you would be so senseless as to choose a demon that is not only male, but disobedient and violent.”

“Yes.” Cole said. “It would not be proper if my sexual orientation was made common knowledge, would it?” Cole’s mother gave him an icy look. She might be able to cow those who tried to ignore her position as head of the company based on her gender but she had little effect on Cole. He’d had much practice, over the years, since their opinions rarely came into harmonious alignment, “I believe it is time we departed.” Cole said and got to his feet. He hadn’t touched the food. His mother put down her glass and followed him to her feet, her annoyance smoothed away behind a mask of pleasantness,

“I believe it is.” She agreed, though she was clearly peeved to have Cole dictate their actions. Cole knew this – it was she who had regimentally schooled him in manners – but he did it regardless. The benefit of knowing the rules off by heart was that he could wilfully flout them. They left the house quickly to step into a waiting carriage with Ryan and his mother’s staff following in a second.

The silence inside the carriage was as smothering as the snow that was falling thickly on the barren landscape outside and Cole lifted the collar of his furred coat, shivering as an insidious draft sidled down the back of his neck.

They breached the town gates and trundled through the quiet streets to reach the auction house just as the sun, a pale, white glow behind the snow-heavy clouds, disappeared entirely and left the small town in darkness. The auction house was a weather-battered building that still clung stubbornly to its previous grandeur, the yellow of the lamps casting it in a kind light and softening its age-roughed edges.

Cole descended the carriage steps with grace, feeling the bite of the chilling air and supressing a shiver. He formally helped his mother down from the carriage, though she needed no such assistance. They climbed the grey stone steps of the auction house with her hand resting feather-light on Cole’s arm and were guided through to a well-lit hall. Inside were several rows of plush seating and Cole looked around with interest. He had never visited the auction hall in the evening and found that the building seemed to vibrate with infectious energy and its enigmatic atmosphere made his blood quicken nervously, as if he was partaking in an illicit act. It also unsettled him, the sense that this wasn’t regulated and the knowledge that there would be demons, volatile, violent creatures, didn’t reassure him.

Cole and his mother were directed to their middling seats, neither close to the stage nor placed at the very back. Cole had the thought that his mother hadn’t wanted to draw too much attention to neither their presence, nor Cole’s choice of purchase and he pressed his lips together to keep the sour expression off his features. He didn’t enjoy being made to feel like he ought to be ashamed. The seating attendant handed them both pamphlets detailing the demons available for purchase and quietly informed them that number thirty-one was just about to be brought up.

Cole’s mother graciously thanked the man and perused the pamphlet through her spectacles, which were round and had a metallic gleam, like insects’ eyes.

“Number thirty-four is a respectable creature.” Cole gave the female a cursory glance and snorted,

“She looks like a hawk.” His mother radiated displeasure in her silence.

“There is more to owning a demon than their appearance, Cole.” She said coldly as number thirty-one was being led up onto stage, “Such as not being murdered in your bed.” She spoke the last part in a hissed undertone and a muscle twitched in Cole’s jaw.

“Mother,” he said quietly as the bidding resumed, “I do not intend on taking my demon to bed.”

They sat in a stony silence. The demon male Cole had picked out was number forty-six, the fifth to last demon on offer for the night. He came up about twenty minutes later, the people in the audience thinning out as the night progressed, and Cole tensed, a flash of adrenaline making his hands clammy.

The demon was tall and hard with muscle, his shoulders hunched as he was brought up onto the stage and turned to face the crowd. The handler kept a hand on the demon’s shoulder and the demon clearly resented it. He wore the same loose grey trousers, his chest left bare, as the other male demons they’d seen but had also been placed in handcuffs and his ankles were loosely chained. His ribs were freshly bruised and glistened a greenish-purple in the lantern-light.

“Number forty-six, here, a healthy young demon male, only twenty-two. Some past behavioural issues but still young enough to remould with a firm hand.” The demon audibly snorted and Cole’s mouth lifted up at the side, even as the handler’s hand clenched down on the demon’s shoulder and the auctioneer shot the male a stern glance. Cole heard his mother exhale in dissatisfaction. “Bidding starting at four hundred lira. Can I get four hundred?” Cole raised his hand. “Thank you, gentlemen in the grey coat, can I get four twenty?”

There were a few half-hearted bidders, looking for manual labour possibly, but they easily relinquished the demon at four eighty and the auctioneer banged down his hammer. It was a frankly insulting price. Just one of Cole’s horses had cost six times that figure.

An attendant came over quickly to take Cole’s details and Cole’s mother got stiffly up to leave. Cole followed her out, though he had to trot a few steps to keep up with her stride.

They moved over to the purchase collection desk and she stood, rigid with anger, though Cole doubted it would have been visible to anyone else. There was a cold vacancy to her expression, a tightness to the way she stood that spoke of her resentment. Cole clenched his jaw and said nothing, knowing that it would be futile to try to defend himself, not that he cared to do so.

A man rushed over when he saw them standing there and apologised profusely for leaving the desk unattended. He hurried on to ask which item it was that they were picking up and Cole narrowed his eyes at the man’s harried, flushed appearance and his shaking hands.

“Number forty-six.” Cole’s mother said, her voice lilting pleasantly but firmly, when Cole failed to respond. Cole saw the flicker of dislike, revulsion, even, in the man’s face before he nodded quickly and hurried to do their bidding and Cole thought he had an idea why the man had been absent from the desk. His idea was confirmed when the man returned with two other attendants, nervously escorting number forty-six.

Cole scowled. “What gave you the right to beat my demon?” He said, his gaze moving from the demon’s bloodied nose to the attendants, who were holding the demon tightly between them.

“Sir,” The desk attendant said tightly, “With the utmost respect, may I remind you that it is acceptable under the auction house policy to use appropriate force to subdue-”

“And if I don’t want it anymore?” Cole snapped, “It’s damaged.” The attendant looked strained,

“Sir, surely something can be arranged?” Cole raised his eyebrows expectantly, “A discount perhaps?” Cole glared at him.

“You insult me.” He said. “Money doesn’t concern me. Image concerns me and that demon cannot be taken out like that. It is unsightly.” The attendant shifted uneasily.

“Is there something else we could offer, sir?” Cole fixed him with a glare his mother would have been proud of.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think there is.” Cole snapped. “Perhaps I should file an official complaint.”

“There was- there was demon that wasn’t sold, sir. If you were interested? Perhaps you might have her with our compliments?”

“Yes.” Cole’s mother jumped in, “That would be appropriate recompense, I think.” Cole turned to her in momentary surprise, his eyebrows raised.

Cole had been furious to see his demon damaged so carelessly and hadn’t wanted anything more than to make the attendant who hurt him think more carefully before acting likewise in the future. He certainly didn’t want a second demon.

“Excellent, madam.” The man pounced on his mother’s approval and didn’t give Cole the chance to refuse. “I shall retrieve her for you immediately. She’s a decent little piece. Quite odd that she didn’t sell, truly.” Cole’s lip twitched.

While the attendant was fetching the female, Cole signed the necessary papers and had the paltry amount of money transferred from his account. Then the female was pulled out and Cole was both bitterly amused at the horror on his mother’s face, when she thought she had so neatly forced him to acquire a female, and similarly horrified by the state of the female. The demon was wailing, her face red and blotched with tears and she was curled up in a ball and being physically carried by the attendants. The attendant was carefully avoiding Cole’s gaze.

“Very well.” Cole said icily, upon seeing her, “Have them both put into a carriage.” He rounded on the attendant, “I know that I need not be concerned about finding a single bruise on either of my purchases.” The attendant muttered something about the demon male already being damaged but Cole’s glare silenced him and he scurried out to oversee loading the demons.

The demons were both placed inside Cole and his mother’s carriage, their chains attached to the floor, but his mother grimaced at the prospect of having the wailing demon female in the carriage with them for the journey home and had her transferred to the servant’s carriage.

They set off with a jolt and a shudder and the demon male on the floor by Cole’s feet was rocked back, knocking Cole’s knee with his shoulder. Cole caught the demon’s scowl and smirked. He liked the creature’s spirit.

“I don’t know what you’re smiling at.” Cole’s mother snapped suddenly, making Cole start. “This demon,” his mother gestured in disgust, “is no good to anyone, Cole. You cannot do anything with him. I do not believe you even understand why I wished for you to acquire one.” Cole rubbed his forehead,

“I understand, mother.” He said.

“No, I don’t think you do.” His mother said, “This is a ridiculous, childish rebellion against taking my advice-”

“Oh is that what it is?” Cole said, laughing without a hint of humour, “You see right through me.”

“Cole.” His mother said, “You mock the company’s reputation with this-” she nudged the demon’s torso with the toe of her boot, “this disgusting beast. If you want a toy to break, Cole, then fine.” Cole heard the demon’s inhale but didn’t look down at him, “But you might have had the decency to buy a second one. An acceptable demon that can walk behind you at functions and-”

“And what?” Cole said, “Mark me out as an arrogant rich bastard?” His mother’s forehead wrinkled at his language, though she didn’t scold him as she had done when he was a child.

“What use do you have for this creature?” His mother demanded, “Do you intend to break him? Bend him to your will, to walk to heel on a leash? Demonstrate off your _masculine_ _power_?”

“No.” Cole said, turning away to look out the black window, the snow sticking to the glass, “I’m thrilled to hear that you have such a high opinion of me.”

“High opinion? Would you care to hear my true opinion, Cole?”

“I’m sure I don’t.” Cole said. His mother glowered at him, her eyes throw into light by the coachman’s lanterns as they turned around a bend,

“I think you desire a warm body to rut into.” Shock and fury made Cole’s skin flush hot at her words, “That is my ‘high opinion’ of your purchase, Cole.” The bitterness of her tone was scathing. Cole was silent, his head turned rigidly away. He didn’t respond but let the silence grow thick and suffocating.

When they finally drew up at his house, Cole stepped out of the carriage and strode away, his spine rigid with anger.

“Cole-” His mother started after him but her dress must have gotten caught up in the snow because she cursed and didn’t follow him as he tramped away, feeling as numb and dark as the night around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback makes me incredibly happy, so spread the love and drop me a comment! I'm totally open to all and any constructive criticism. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading!


	3. Tiger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole and Jasper talk.

Cole’s boots and the bottoms of his trousers were sodden and filthy with snow and mud by the time he returned to the house. He’d taken an ill-advised walk around the gardens in the near-impenetrable darkness in an attempt to dispel his anger. He was also avoiding his mother, a fact he didn’t try to deny to himself, who he hoped would have departed to return to the family’s second home by the time he lost feeling in his toes. The Devons’ other home was thankfully over an hour’s drive away, in good weather. In the snow it could take three.

Stepping into the warmth of the entrance hall, Cole was immediately attended upon by Lores, a man who had served Cole’s father for countless years and treated Cole with a formal, mildly amused fondness. He took Cole’s coat, wet from the snow, and exchanged his boots for soft slippers before ushering him upstairs with the promise of hot tea and bread biscuits.

Cole ran a tired hand through his hair as he moved down the long, traditionally ornamental corridors. He thought he heard a muffled wail from somewhere far away but when he paused, he didn’t hear the noise again and continued silently; his steps making no sound on the plush carpets.

He stepped into his room, gently lit with a slow-burning lamp resting on his cupboard, and sighed, nudging the door closed to strip off his shirt and breeches, moving through to the washroom to rinse his tired face and relieve himself.

Lores knocked softly a few moments later and Cole moved over to take the slender metal tray from the older man. Lores inclined his head respectfully,

“Is there anything you need, sir?”

“No. Goodnight, Lores.” Lores bowed his head again,

“Goodnight, sir.” He said, before taking his leave. Cole knew that it was thought odd within the household that he didn’t keep a personal manservant but he found the attention invasive and preferred to attend to his private space personally. Excepting cleaning, his staff were instructed not to touch or tidy his things nor enter his private rooms without knocking.

Cole put the tray down on the wooden table beside his bed and sat down on the firm mattress, taking a sip of the malt tea, his cold fingers wrapped around the cup’s warmth. The bread biscuits were warm and soft and Cole relaxed as he ate.

A sudden, small noise made Cole freeze. A shifting of weight or a shallow inhale, Cole couldn’t tell, but he was instantly alert. He didn’t turn around but carefully, quietly, put his hand round the back of the bed where a knife was kept in a cloth pouch behind the headboard. Wrapping his fingers around the handle, Cole set his teacup down with a clink of china and stood up, turning slowly to scour the shadowy room. He couldn’t see anything amiss.

“Announce yourself.” Cole gritted out, feeling like a fool. And yet, he’d heard something. He was sure of it.

“Here.” Cole started violently at the rough, male voice and walked stiffly around the bed, towards where he thought it had come from. Cast in shadow and kneeling, hands shackled to the bedpost, was the male demon and Cole inhaled sharply. His grip on his knife felt slick at the glint of the demon’s pale yellow-grey eyes and Cole stared at the dim outline of the creature.

“Who put you in here?” He demanded. He felt deeply unnerved that he’d been sat just meters from the demon and thought himself alone. That he’d stripped his clothes off with a demon on just the other side of the room. He felt suddenly starkly vulnerable and glared at the creature who had invaded his territory.

“Your mother.” The demon said, his eyes flickering away from Cole’s face down to his knife for a moment before returning to meet Cole’s gaze with loathing in his eyes.

“I see.” Cole said coldly. He forced himself to turn his back on the demon and move into one of the adjoining rooms, unlocking his private safe to stow away the knife. It wouldn’t do for the demon to find it.

His room was still and silent when he returned and Cole wished that the demon would simply cease to exist. That would be easiest. But the demon was still there when he walked around the bed and Cole knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep without checking that the demon was secure.

“Show me your hands.” The demon glowered, his eyes almost glowing in the lamplight, but did as he was told, raising his bound wrists with a clink of metal. Cole, giving the demon a wary look, crouched down and carefully took hold of his wrists, tugging on them lightly. They were threaded through the bed’s frame and couldn’t have slipped free even if the demon had managed to lift the ancient, metal bed, which Cole doubted. “Fine.” He grunted, when he’d inspected the bonds. It was only after he’d stepped away and was readying himself for bed that he thought to consider if the demon was cold. The male was only wearing the auction-issue trousers, his chest bare, and the air was sharply cold tonight. Cole’s room was generally left unheated bar a heated copper bed warmer under the blankets.

Vaguely irritated, Cole retrieved a spare blanket from the bottom drawer in his wardrobe and brought it over to the demon, who tensed on his approach. Cole dropped the blanket by the demon’s knees and didn’t spare the demon another glance but instead climbed into bed and pulled the covers over himself with a sigh. It took some time to fall asleep, though he didn’t hear a single sound from the demon, but when he did it was deep and undisturbed.

….

“What would you like to drink this morning, sir?”

“Coffee.” Cole grunted, "With apple syrup. Please." He felt in need of the sugar, and the caffeine. The demon male was out of sight – had been taken downstairs to the kitchens where the other female was – but the creature preyed on Cole’s mind.

Cole ate in silence. The dining room was a cavernously empty room when it was only he that occupied it but he preferred the servants to leave him alone, and they obeyed him and left him to the silence of the dark walls once they’d attended to his needs. There was a bell cord hanging against the wall just behind his chair which he could pull if he required them and, putting his newspaper aside, Cole did so now.

Lores arrived promptly and bowed formally,

“How may I assist you, sir?”

“How are the demons doing?” Lores hesitated and Cole’s mouth lifted wryly at the corner, “Truthfully.” He added. Lores inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“The male is very reticent, sir, but generally does as he is told. The female has been quite distressed and is reluctant to obey.”

“I see.” Cole said, leaning back in his chair, “What is your opinion of them?” Lores shifted his weight slightly as he thought,

“My opinion, sir, is that they are very new and I am not yet sure of them. I would say, however, that the female seems like she is new to servitude and would require some amount of training. I am not sure how she would respond to it.”

“And the male?” Again, Lores hesitated,

“Truthfully, sir, though he has yet to do anything wrong, he unnerves myself and the other staff. He seems- violent, sir. Damaged, perhaps. But I may be incorrect. He has made no move against us.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Cole said. It wasn’t good news but he wasn’t surprised, “I appreciate your honesty.” Lores inclined his head again. “I’d like you to keep me informed on them.”

“Yes, sir.” Lores said. Cole nodded,

“Good.” He said, “Thank you. I intend to give them a chance but I don’t wish to put you or the other staff in danger or cause too much trouble. Who has taken charge of the female?”

“Myself, primarily, sir. And Liana.”

“Alright.” Cole said, “If you could attend to her, encourage her to contribute to the household and settle her in if at all possible. I will supervise the male as much as I am able.” Lores looked uncertain,

“Is that wise, sir?” He asked gently, “I know you are very busy and we would be able to oversee him.” Cole smiled,

“The offer’s appreciated, Lores, but he was my choice and I will need a demon to attend functions with me.” He shrugged lightly, “Perhaps he will prove unsuitable but he seems to have, at least, some control over himself. I may change my mind later, but for now this is how I will do things. That doesn’t mean I won’t need your help with him .” Lores agreed smoothly and Cole dismissed him with instructions to send the demon male to the library.

Cole took his time finishing his breakfast, allowing Lores the time to take the demon over to the library and settle him, before moving over there to meet him.

The library was a room that vaulted elegantly over the heads of all who’d passed under its gold-edged ceiling murals. The warmth of the soft brown shades of books spines lining the pale cream bookshelves smoothed the edges of the expansive space into a kind of formal ease. Cole had yet to seek solace within these walls, as his father often had, but the smell of the old paper always appealed to him. He had memories of lying beside a blazing fireplace with his arm over one of the family’s hunting dogs, larger than he was at that age, and watching his father’s head nod over an old tome on late afternoons in deep winter.

Now, though, the thick, acrid reek of vomit assaulted Cole’s nose as he stepped across the threshold and Cole grimaced, glancing over to see the demon male kneeling on the rich, wine-red rug that lay before a fire whose burnt-out ashes lay dead and cold.

There was a glistening pool of clotted, watery liquid soaking into the rug fibres beside the demon male’s knees and Cole came quickly over as the demon’s head sunk forwards onto his chest, a thread of saliva linking the demon’s wet mouth to the ruined rug.

Cole pulled the bell cord tucked into the corner between the edge of a bookcase and the protruding chimney breast before coming over to crouch beside the demon male.

“Demon?” Cole said, laying a hesitant hand on the demon’s shoulder and wishing he knew the creature’s name. The demon male flinched when Cole’s hand made contact but made no move to rouse himself or move away from Cole’s touch.

“Sir?” A new maid, one recently acquired, came into the room with colour blushing across the edge of her cheekbones from either exertion or the biting wind that was whistling around the latent fireplace.

“Have this cleared up. Send Liana to me immediately.” The maid dithered for a moment, looking in horror at the demon’s mess before acquiescing hastily and trotting back to the kitchen. Liana returned bearing sudsy water and a grey cloth and set to work on the rug before she’d even looked at Cole.

“What has he eaten this morning?” Cole questioned, his hand remaining on the unmoving demon’s shoulder. The male hadn’t so much as raised his head as the other servants came and went and there was a sheen of sweat on the grey skin of his neck that concerned Cole, considering the noticeable chill in the room.

“Oat-milk and eggs, sir.” Liana said, “Same as everybody else.”

“And no-one else is ill? The other demon?”

“The female’s sulking but no, not sick.” Liana went as if to put a hand to the demon’s forehead before stopping herself when the demon recoiled, glaring at her dully from under heavy brows. “I don’t think he’s ill, sir.” Liana said, rinsing out the soap from the rug with efficient, vigorous strokes, “The food was likely too rich for him. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, sir, I’ll be sure to give him something easier on his stomach.” Cole nodded, glancing at the demon male in concern.

Liana patted at the wet stain with a wedge of absorbent cloth before getting to her feet and inclining her head to him politely, leaving the room with a rustle of fabric and the click of the door closing.

“How are you feeling now?” Cole asked the demon, retracting his hand from the demon’s shoulder. The demon lifted his eyes up to meet Cole’s briefly before dropping back to floor,

“Fine. Sir.”

“Alright.” Cole said, “I need to talk to you about an- arrangement between us.” The demon didn’t raise his head and Cole faltered, “Unless you’re not feeling well?” The demon raised his chin. His expression was tired and sallow with what Cole suspected to be malnutrition, but there was still the glint to the demon male’s eyes that had caught Cole’s attention in the onset and Cole’s lips twitched upwards to see it there.

“I’m fine, sir. I apologise.” Cole’s eyebrows rose at the flat tone of the demon’s voice but didn’t comment. Instead, he shifted position to cross his legs and settled to look carefully over the demon.

“What is your name?” The demon male was silent for several moments, “Or if not your name,” Cole added, “Then something I can call you.”

“Jasper.” Cole nodded once in acceptance.

“Very well.” He said, “Do you know why you were purchased?” The demon male, Jasper, showed no visible reaction but he seemed to sharpen and Cole had the atavistic urge to move back, though the demon’s wrists and ankles were still bound in chains.

“Not entirely, sir.” Cole sighed and rolled his head in an effort to dispel the stiffness in his shoulders,

“My mother thought it unsuitable for the company second in command to go out unaccompanied. Apparently it is seen as uncouth. Hence,” Cole gestured vaguely towards Jasper, “you.” Jasper didn’t respond, though he was watching Cole much like an idle lion. “In regards to an arrangement,” Cole paused, “I would appreciate it if we could co-operate.” Jasper huffed softly and Cole smiled, “You don’t believe me?” He said and then shrugged, “I see it as a business arrangement, where you do something for me and I give you something in return.” The demon turned his head from Cole with a derisive smirk that was poorly concealed. Cole exhaled heavily and glanced over the demon’s lean form, pulling his gaze away before he became distracted. “Hear me out.” Cole said, “There is a business function coming up, an anniversary party for an alliance between two of our primary suppliers that has stood for five years. I am required to attend and it would,” he paused, “benefit me if you would accompany me and behave in a manner which would complement me.” Jasper was silent and Cole rubbed his eye absentmindedly, “In return, you can have something you want. I will do my best to accommodate you.”

“You own me.” The lethal finality of Jasper’s words hit Cole like cold air and he frowned,

“Yes.” He said, “I’m fully aware of that. But I have no wish to make you do anything you don’t want to. I very much doubt that I could, actually.” Jasper’s head was lowered so that Cole could discern nothing of the demon’s reaction to his words. Cole decided to wait Jasper out, letting the male gather his thoughts. Several long moments passed before Jasper did speak again,

“What would you have me do?” Cole rubbed his jaw,

“I’d like you to behave as the other demons there do but I like your,” he fumbled for a word, “spark. Your aggression. If you could be intimidating, but restrain from any actual violence that would be ideal.” Jasper snorted,

“Your tamed tiger.” He said. Cole met Jasper’s eyes and saw the power behind them,

“Yes,” he agreed easily, “but a pretence. You and I would know that it was not real.” Jasper nodded once, in acknowledgement or acceptance, Cole wasn’t sure.

“I want freedom.” Jasper said. Cole frowned,

“You know that I cannot-”

“Yes.” Jasper cut him off, “I know that it wouldn’t real. But these,” he held up his hands, “and this.” He gestured to the house. “I want free-run.” Cole considered it, glancing down at Jasper’s chained hands.

“You could kill me. You’ve killed before, haven’t you?” Jasper stilled, eyeing Cole. Cole didn’t know why he’d said it, but he was sure it was true. Cole was only vaguely aware of the atrocities committed against demons but he could not imagine Jasper taking any of them lying down.

“Yes.” Jasper confirmed flatly.

“Why?” Jasper neglected to reply, turning his head away from Cole.

“And I? Should I expect death?" Cole scrutinised Jasper’s face, “I bought you like property and had you at my feet like a dog. I’ve kept you chained. Does that warrant my death?” Jasper fixed Cole with an intent gaze before his lips curled into a grim replica of a smile,

“If that was all it took, almost every human I’ve met would be worthy of death.” Cole was quiet, waiting. “No.” Jasper said, “I wouldn’t kill you. You have yet to deserve it, and it would be suicide.”

“It would.” Cole agreed. “Hypothetically, what would I have to do to deserve to be killed, by your reckoning?” Cole wasn’t sure he would receive an answer,

“If you aren’t lying about this ‘arrangement’ then I will have no reason to despise you, beside the fact of you being human.” Cole inclined his head.

“I am not lying.” He said, “But I shall have to prove that. The function is next week.” He glanced down at Jasper’s restraints and exhaled heavily. It seemed intrinsically wrong to give free rein to a creature that had just admitted to murder and yet, if Jasper truly wanted to do someone harm, Cole was of the mind that the demon would manage to do it, restraints or no. “I will not have my staff nor any guest in my house hurt, and that includes the female. If I find out that you have threatened or injured any of them, you will immediately be put back into restraints.” Jasper nodded once and Cole chewed at the inside of his lip. Essentially, he’d already made up his mind but he was still uncertain.

“I swear I will not injure anyone, except in self-defence.” Jasper said, his voice steady. Cole glanced up to meet Jasper’s gaze.

“And limit any damage,” Cole said, “if it’s in self-defence?” Jasper nodded again.

“I will do my best.”

“Very well.” Cole said with a sigh. He got to his feet, catching Jasper’s flinch as he did so but pretending he hadn’t. “I have to go and fetch the keys.” He looked down at Jasper’s bound ankles. “It will be easier if you wait here.”

“Yes.” Jasper agreed, his gaze on the floor. Cole nodded, though it was unseen by the demon and walked away, moving up the grand staircase to his private rooms.

Jasper hadn’t moved in the time it took for Cole to return, except, perhaps, that he appeared more uneasy. Cole didn’t delay but came over and knelt down beside the demon.

“Your hands.” He said quietly, a request. Jasper proffered them and Cole took the metal lightly between his fingers to steady the shaking restraints so that he could fit in the key. He did likewise with the chains at Jasper’s ankles before disdainfully kicking the heavy locks under the large desk and tossing the keys on top.

Jasper followed Cole to his feet and Cole could feel the weight of the demon’s scrutiny. He turned to meet Jasper’s gaze and Jasper held it, showing that all of the abuse he had suffered had not broken him. Cole sobered at the thought of the female and how broken she had seemed. He tried to put her out of his mind for the time being. He had work matters to attend to. But first, his gaze was drawn back to Jasper and the demon’s unhealthy leanness and berated himself for not asking after the demon’s wellbeing earlier.

“I apologise.” He said bluntly, “I’ve been thoughtless. Distracted, admittedly,” he waved a hand to encompass the entirety of his troubles, “but thoughtless. Are you injured? Do you need a doctor? Does the female?” Jasper’s expression transitioned briefly into wary hostility before settling back into neutrality. Cole could only guess that Jasper was annoyed at Cole’s haphazardness, or else had had poor experiences with medical staff in the past.

“I have heard of humans like you.” Jasper said, his voice low and faintly accusatory, to Cole’s ears. Cole raised his eyebrows in enquiry and Jasper looked back at him, unfathomable. “I didn’t believe humans existed that were not sadistic or indifferent. Then I thought that the few that I knew to exist would desire young demons, soft ones who would come to worship them, love them.” Cole’s stomach was uncomfortably tight at this brutal dissection of his species, though he found it difficult to fault. From a demon’s viewpoint – particularly one as maltreated as Jasper had so clearly been – human society was a merciless, cruel beast. Jasper’s gaze grew faintly hostile, but quizzical, “What is it that you want? I will never adore you. I doubt that I will even care for you. If you want a willing lover, I will not be one.” Cole began to deny it but Jasper’s glare stopped him, “I have seen you look at me.” He said coldly and Cole flushed and turned away for a moment. His heart beat quickly and he felt unsettled, caught between guilt and indignation.

“You’re asking why I chose you.” Cole said, finding it easier to speak when he was turned away from Jasper’s piercing stare. “I chose you because you didn’t look like a doll, like a beaten, defeated shell of a thing.” Cole shuddered in memory of the dull stares he had seen in demons’ photos. “You’re attractive.” He admitted, his voice rough, “And you’re correct, I’m attracted to you. But,” he spun around to face Jasper, needing the demon to believe this, if nothing else, “I will not act on it. I know you would not be willing.” He swallowed and his gaze fell to the demon’s feet, “And I would never force myself on someone.” His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, Cole rubbed his forehead and tried for a change of subject, “What of the female? Do you know her? How has she been?” Jasper’s brow was furrowed,

“She would not be willing either.” He said flatly and Cole choked on a shocked laugh.

“Christ!” He said, “I know that! I wasn’t- that wasn’t what I was asking.” Jasper’s face settled his usual, mildly hostile expression and Cole sighed, “I was asking how she was.” He tried weakly. Jasper’s lips thinned,

“She’s traumatised and frightened.”

“And what do you suggest?” Cole asked hesitantly, “Would it do any good for me to speak to her?”

“I would- no. I do not know her, but I think it would more harmful than good to try to talk to her.” Jasper scanned Cole’s face as if gauging his response. Cole tried to appear attentive and responsive. He wanted to hear Jasper’s advice and Jasper must have read something of this in his features because he continued more firmly, “I would leave her with the servants for a week or two to settle. Only then would I speak to her to assure her that you mean her no harm – taking her to bed, I mean – so that she isn’t left waiting for you to do that. Then you must fulfil your word. She may come to trust it in time, or she may not.” 

“I see.” Cole said, running Jasper’s words through his head, “That sounds like good advice. I will leave her with the servants for a week or so, then.” He stood up from where he’d been leaning against the desk and Jasper straightened, “You know you can come and find me if you have any problems?” Cole said carefully, watching Jasper’s face, which was unreadable. “And if you have concerns for the female? I won’t punish you or turn you away.” Jasper’s frown left Cole slightly unsettled but he said,

“I will bear that in mind.” Cole took it for the dismissal that it was and nodded.

“Good.” He said, “Very well. I’m sure the house staff can find something for you to do if you’re listless, but you are free to do as you please.” Jasper inclined his head once and moved to leave. Cole watched him go, seeing the pride in Jasper’s thrown-back shoulders and high-held head, and feeling immensely saddened that the demon had had to endure years of forced submission when it was so blatant to Cole that the demon would rather die than be subject to another’s will. There was a treacherous part of Cole, somewhere animal-deep, that sparked with interest in the presence of such power and it was that part of him that made him doubt his decisions regarding Jasper. The demon made Cole want to obey, though the thought of it was followed by thick shame. He didn’t know if freeing the demon was a mistake. He was certain that his mother would have seen as it as one and perhaps that was why he had done it; trusting in foolish leaps rather than his mother’s cautious inches.

He pushed his thoughts away and moved through to his home office to take a seat at his desk, drawing out some of the paperwork he had brought back from work including the résumé of a director they were looking to hire and the drafted order forms for the New Year.

Cole looked them over and struggled to focus himself, giving himself a headache in the meantime. Eventually, the work all but completed, he sat back and closed his eyes. Cole felt like an island that had once been joined to a continent so vast and stable that he’d never considered he’d be without its stoic support. Now, though, by some fluke of nature, he was surrounded by uncaring, endless sea and he hardly knew himself anymore.

 


	4. Threats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole and Jasper discuss the upcoming function.

Cole sat alone at breakfast, today’s paper lying untouched at his elbow, the post on top,spooning warm oats and apple sauce into his mouth.

The door opened suddenly, making Cole start, hot oats falling from his spoon onto his neatly pressed work trousers. Cole cursed, setting down his spoon to snatch up a napkin,

“Jasper!” The name was hissed and Cole glanced up from where he was dabbing at his lap to see Jasper striding inside. Cole tensed, his spine straightening in response to Jasper’s presence,

“Who’s outside the door?” Cole said, keeping his voice mild. Jasper sat down across from Cole, one seat to the right of being directly opposite. He helped himself to toast and honey, putting them down on the tablecloth, since the only place setting was Cole’s, before responding,

“I believe she is called Liana. She seems to rather enjoy following me around.” Cole’s lips twitched upwards,

“Liana?” He called,

“Yes, sir?” Liana appeared instantly, looking flushed and irritated,

“I’ve been rather clumsy and dropped oats on my trousers. Could you have a spare pair put in my room?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Thank you.” Liana left quickly, sending Jasper a venomous look. “Are you well?” Cole asked Jasper, after several seconds had passed in silence.

Jasper glanced up at him, his eyes full and dark and Cole’s stomach tightened around his breakfast. Not wishing to eat any more but with little else to do with his hands, he curled his fingers around his teacup. Jasper did indeed look well; his cheeks less sallow than when Cole had seem him the week previous, and his eyes viciously sharp, lips thin but rich and wide, curving up at the corners.

Jasper bit down on his third slice of toast without replying and Cole watched him eat his food in silence.

“You won’t make yourself sick, will you?” Cole said finally as Jasper reached to take his forth piece of toast. The demon’s hand paused in mid-air and his expression visually darkened as he set the bread down and abruptly reached across the table to take Cole’s teacup. Recoiling slightly from Jasper’s sudden move towards him, Cole looked on in silence as Jasper finished off the lukewarm tea with several long swallows, exposing his throat, before helping himself to more.

Cole wiped his mouth of his napkin and started to his feet. In his peripheral vision, he saw Jasper tense, his eating paused for just a moment before he resumed. Cole turned to look at him.

“You might have asked.” He said coldly, his voice sounding loud and unsteady and just a little like his father’s. This flaunting arrogance seemed unnecessary, vindictive even and Cole resented it.

“So flay me for it.” Jasper said, his tone flat. Cole made a noise of disgust and turned away, leaving Jasper alone. It felt like submission, like running..

…

“Liana?” The female met Cole’s gaze as she was setting the refreshments tray down on his desk to show she was attentive, “Could you have Jasper sent up to my chambers? I want to talk to him before the function tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How is the female? Does she have a name? Has she settled?” Liana hesitated, clasping her hands in front of her stomach before responding,

“She is as well as to be expected, sir. She’s still frightened and speaks very little. She’s willing to help out with small tasks but prone to emotional outbursts. She says her name is Circe, but she doesn’t always respond to it so I am not sure.”

“I see. And how do you think she will progress?” Liana pressed her lips together,

“I think she will improve further, sir, but I don’t think she’ll ever be as productive as a more stable demon.” She shrugged lightly, “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like her to stay. She seems,” she paused, “sweet, and resilient.” Cole hummed,

“Thank you, Liana.” He said and she nodded and stepped away. Cole stared at the wall for several seconds after Liana had left. He would need to talk to the female, Circe, soon, and his thoughts drifted to Jasper and his advice. Cole was not sure how Jasper would behave at the function and he would be lying to himself if he said there was not a foreboding tightness in his belly. Where other demons might have struggled to adapt to being free, Jasper, from what little of him Cole had seen, seemed to have taken to it as easily as a bird to flight. Cole sighed. They would just have to see.

Cole finished up his work and headed upstairs to find Jasper sprawled on his bed, flicking through one of the books that had, until recently, been on Cole’s nightstand. Cole’s jaw twitched in irritation at the intrusion but he said nothing and instead moved into the next room to remove his shirt and breeches and replace them for his softer nightwear and bed robe. Fastening the two wooden buttons, Cole stepped back into the room to find Jasper waiting for him, the book put back in its place and Jasper’s eyes raised to meet his. The sight went straight to Cole’s cock and he had to look away to marshal his thoughts.

“What did you want?” Jasper said before Cole could speak. His irritation returning, Cole didn’t immediately respond but instead sat down atop the blankets with his legs crossed so that he was facing Jasper.

“The function is tomorrow.” Cole said,

“I had not forgotten.” Cole flicked his eyes up and found that Jasper was looking out of the dark window, the curtains not yet drawn across. There was an oddly unguarded expression on his face but Cole couldn’t read it.

“I- we need to set some boundaries.” He took a breath and found Jasper’s eyes on him, glinting bright as they caught the lamplight. “Both for what I won’t allow, and what you won’t.”

“Fine.” Cole was silent for a moment, waiting to see if Jasper would continue. He didn’t, only watched Cole with those unnerving eyes and his blank face,

“What are your limits, Jasper?” Cole eventually prompted. Jasper raised an eyebrow before lying his lead back against Cole’s headboard,

“No sexual touching.” He said firmly and Cole nodded, glad of the darkness hiding the adolescent blush on his cheeks, ashamed of the thoughts that passed through his head when he was around Jasper. Thoughts which would never go further than his head. “No violence.” Jasper continued. Cole nodded again, “And,” Jasper paused, “Don’t leave my sight.” Cole raised his brows at that and hummed noncommittally. That would be harder. It might be expected that demons went down to the servants’ quarters. But Cole could pass it off as because Jasper was new and unstable and so he nodded,

“I believe that will be feasible. I have been thinking-” Jasper snorted quietly and Cole caught the derisive smirk at Jasper’s lips, the sardonic amusement not quite reaching his eyes, and found himself smiling regardless. He pressed on with more seriousness, “It would be sensible to have a system of communicating without speaking.” Jasper looked nonplussed but attentive and Cole reached forwards slowly, watching Jasper’s face as his attention sharpened into wariness at Cole’s move towards him,

“What are you doing?” Jasper all but growled.

“May I have your hand?” Jasper glowered, only reluctantly lifting his hand out of his lap. His skin was warm and dry as Cole put his hand around Jasper’s wrist and squeezed lightly. Jasper’s fingers twitched but he didn’t try to retract his hand, only watched Cole with a sharp frown, “One squeeze would mean that you were fine.” Cole said, watching Jasper’s face carefully. He squeezed twice, keeping his touches light. Jasper had been restrained before and Cole didn’t want to accidentally trigger poor memories, “Two would mean that you were unhappy or uncertain, but willing to go on.” Cole took his hand away from Jasper’s pleasantly hot skin and met Jasper’s hard gaze, “Three would mean that you wish to leave immediately.”

“I see.” Jasper said after a long pause and Cole nodded once. “What do you want from me, then?” Jasper demanded, his expression descending into suspicion. Cole sighed,

“I think you are fully aware how demons are expected to behave and, as much as is possible, I would like you to behave as such.” Jasper’s lip curled and he turned his head away. Cole was silent for a moment. He, too, disliked the thought of Jasper behaving with fawning obedience; wasn’t entirely sure the headstrong male was capable of it. But it was what Jasper had agreed to.

Cole took a steadying breath before continuing, “As much as I know this will be difficult for you, it will be difficult for me also and if you could be attentive to that fact, that would help me.”

“Why?” Jasper said without an ounce of softness. Cole winced inwardly but showed no reaction on his face,

“Because there is a reason I try to have as little to do with demons and the humans who deal with them as I can. I strongly dislike the system, but one of the company’s long-term shareholders, and a friend of my late father, enjoys having demons at his social functions. I could not refuse.” Jasper made a dissatisfied grunt in his throat.

“I am glad your father is dead, if he kept such company.” Cole stiffened,

“Do not speak of my father.” He snapped, his skin flushing and making his bathroom feel rough and too thick and heavy. Jasper, his expression lined with anger, opened his mouth to speak but Cole cut him off, “Jasper.” He said in warning before pausing to consider his next words,

“My final request,” He said, watching as Jasper sealed his lips and glared sullenly at Cole, “is that you trust me.” Jasper rolled his eyes and Cole rubbed his hands on his thighs, a nervous tick, “It’s important, Jasper. I need you to know that I will not put you in a situation where you could be harmed.”

“Enough.” Jasper said, getting to his feet with lithe power, “I understand, but I do not agree. You can’t gain my trust,” he spat it out like a seed pip, “with a few words. The rest,” he waved a hand vaguely, before seeming to forget what he was saying. “It'll be- fine.” He said finally, “As long as you don’t break your word.” He fastened his eyes on Cole’s, “You will regret it if you do.” Cole grunted quietly,

“Excellent.” He said heavily, rubbing a hand down his face, “We have descended to threats. I’m so glad.”

“You-”

“You are dismissed, Jasper.” Cole said wearily, cutting him off, “Unless you want to talk more about tomorrow.” Jasper glowered at him for several seconds before leaving, closing the door behind a little harder than was necessary. Cole sighed.


	5. Kneel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole and Jasper attend the function.

Cole ran his hand down the pressed, silken material of his dark shirt before adjusting the lie of the simple but expensive black jacket he was wearing over the top. Lores then stepped forwards to help Cole into a lusciously thick, shadow-black fur coat that had once belonged to his father and been used for the same purpose; bitter winter carriage trips to black-tie company functions. Lores’ eyes were soft as he stepped back to fold his hands behind his back, appraising Cole with a slight smile. He didn’t speak but Cole knew what he looked like and he’d seen the photos; he was the mirror image of his father. His mother reminded him often enough.

Feeling a cold sense of duty and repressing the resentment that came with it, Cole brushed a hand over the pocket of his jacket. There was a slight lump there and Cole dismissed it from his mind, not wishing to think more about what was there before he needed to.

Jasper was stood a short way behind him, dressed crisply but without the arrogant lavishness of Cole’s dress. Cole saw his clothes as both his armour and his mask - something his father had taught him - and he wielded this façade, of confidence born of old money, as a weapon.

Jasper came to stand beside Cole, his silent steps carrying weight, and flicked his gaze over Cole’s figure, his statue swollen by the majestically bulbous coat, in a manner that made Cole’s spine itch. Jasper appeared unimpressed by the attire but his eyes lingered on Cole’s face with that slight frown on his proud, powerful features, his eyes hard and assessing.

“We’ll be back around two or three, I expect.” Cole said to Lores, not truly wanting to know how he measured up in Jasper’s eyes in case he fell short. Lores opened the door onto the dark night, the dim glow of the carriage lights awaiting them a short way down the drive. Cole nodded to Lores as he departed with Jasper walking at his side. On these grounds, Jasper could be Cole’s equal; off them, he had to at least behave as an obedient subordinate, if not an entirely docile one. Spark was acceptable, even desired, where rebellion and getting ideas above his station, were not.

Jasper boarded the carriage first and Cole was content to permit him to do so. He didn’t blame the male for seeking to assert himself in the short time before he had to submit all control and autonomy to a human he barely knew for several hours.

The carriage started with a jerk and Cole sagged into his seat with a shiver, the icy air congealing in front of his face in a sullen cloud. Demons ran hotter than humans and so Jasper wore no coat, appearing impervious to the biting chill that sunk into Cole's muscles and seemed to crawl into his lungs. Cole hadn't always been a healthy child and the cold tended to remind him of his childhood fear of 'catching his death', as his mother had called it.

Opposite, Jasper sat motionless, only visible in fleeting glimpses when the carriage turned round a sharp corner and its front lamps illuminated the carriage’s interior in sporadic bursts.

“You're aware that I will have to say things that I do not mean, aren’t you?” The words had been stuck in Cole’s throat for some time before he finally managed to spit them out. They sounded loud and unnatural in the quiet creak of the carriage.

"I am aware." Jasper said and Cole fell silent. He was apprehensive for the function, but was also somewhat comforted to have a companion, or at least an ally, however reluctant, accompanying him. Catching glimpses of Jasper's blank face, Cole doubted he felt the same.

"Jasper-" Cole broke off, fingering the leather loop in his pocket.

"What?" Jasper said, cold as the air.

"I need you to wear a collar." Cole said, his voice tight as he drew the leather from his pocket. It was soft and slender, but Cole knew it would weigh just as heavily on Jasper's throat.

Jasper didn't respond and Cole was uneasy talking to the dark, formless shadows of the carriage, the night too black to make out Jasper's features, "Are you- willing?" He asked finally.

"You can't see me, can you?" Jasper's voice said suddenly, startlingly close to Cole's face. The carriage rocked and Cole felt rather than saw Jasper's form sway where he was tilted forwards in his seat.

"No." Cole said truthfully, his eyes owl-wide and useless. His skin crawled with the feeling of being blind, the knowledge that Jasper could be scrutinising him and Cole would be oblivious.

Jasper grunted and the collar held loosely in Cole's fingers were lifted out of his hold, the carriage seat creaking as Jasper moved away from Cole, settling back in his seat. Cole released a breath, pressing his hands into the seat either side of his thighs to anchor himself in the rocking shudder of the carriage's movement.

The rain started up its monotone rhythm on the roof of the carriage and neither spoke. The drive was long but they arrived soon enough, the carriage coming to a shuddering stop as the horses shambled to a halt. Cole drew his coat across his chest.

"Have you put it on?" He said, as the coachman opened the door, letting in a flush of cold air,

"Yes." Jasper growled, belatedly adding with biting disrespect, "Sir."

"Fix your attitude." Cole said quietly, glancing back to catch the glint of Jasper's vulpine eyes before he drew his professional capability around him like a second coat and strode out of the carriage. A demon that Cole didn’t so much as glance at leapt forwards to shelter Cole under a large umbrella and Cole didn't glance back, trusting that Jasper would follow as a demon should; attentive but respectful. Jasper was left to get wet.

"Good evening, Mr Devon." Cole was greeted at the door,

“Evening, Lewis.” Cole said, nodding at the manservant who, when Cole had been younger, had seemed mountainously tall and tremendously stern. Now he seemed somewhat reduced, with his stiff, flat mouth and cold eyes a pale replica of the man of Cole’s memories.

“Cole Devon! My god, boy, you’re a man! And the spitting image of your father, god rest his soul!”

“Mr Kelley.” Cole greeted, finding his mouth smiling close-lipped in response to Kelley’s effusive welcome, though he was uncomfortably aware of Jasper’s silent presence behind him.

“Oh please Cole, I think we know each other better than that.” James Kelley’s smile was wide and blindingly bright, his lips glistening from the glass of fizzler cupped in the man’s strong, tanned fingers. Cole smiled,

“It is an honour, James.”

“Honour’s all mine!” Kelley said, before leaning back to appraise Cole’s form, “Same wide shoulders as Graham,” Kelley said with somewhat more softness and Cole found his mouth lifting into a sad but more genuine smile, “And that face-” Kelley broke off with a disarming, what-can-you-do smile, before turning to Lewis, “Take the man’s coat, will you old man?” He said, his voice warm but firm and Cole saw Lewis motion two demons forwards. They were young, lithe males dressed only in black and silver trousers and with features similar enough to be twins. Cole made himself appear aloof and disinterested, instead applying his attention to the man in front him as the heavy fur coat was lifted from Cole’s shoulders and left him feeling both lighter and more exposed.

Cole glanced over Kelley’s imposing figure as the man gestured for Cole to step through with him into the hall and lifted a pale red fizzler from the tray of a passing server, dressed similarly to the demons on the door with his chest broad and bear, to offer to Cole.

“I don’t drink, thank you.” Cole refused, smiling at Kelley to take the edge off his rejection. Kelley had only to hold out the unwanted glass and another server swept by to take it away,

“Fetch the man some soft apple. It’s made right here from the apple trees your father saw put in. You’ll like it, I’m sure.” Cole couldn’t refuse and so inclined his head, his gaze drawn to the server as he hurried away to fulfil Kelley’s request. It seemed like only seconds before the server returned, inclining his head to Cole to offer him a sea-blue glass holding syrupy yellow liquid on a tray. Kelley had drawn Cole forwards in order to introduce him to a beautiful young woman with her arm looped through that of an older man who smiled fondly at her as she gushed Cole’s praise and followed her lead in complimenting both Cole’s parentage and his attire. Cole nodded politely but didn’t smile and didn’t try to remember their names. His father had told him early on that people worth listening to would let Cole know within a few seconds of their first meeting. Cole had found exceptions, but not many.

Cole lifted the glass from the server’s tray, his hand lingering for just a moment as he noticed the demon male’s slight tremble, ripples shivering across the surface of his drink. Once he’d taken his drink in hand, the server bowed and slipped away into the shifting crowd of guests.

Kelley raised his half-empty glass,

“To success!” Kelley said, lightly clinking his glass against Cole’s before throwing back the alcohol, his Adam’s apple jerking as he swallowed. Cole sipped politely and pasted a vague smile on his face to hide his grimace at the sickening sickness,

“A little too sweet.” He said and Kelley’s smile dimmed.

“Water?” He said and Cole shrugged elegantly.

“That would be fine.” He said, passing Kelley’s drink off to a passing server. He didn’t regret refusing Kelley’s drink. Kelley needed to know that Cole wouldn’t go along with anything for the sake of politeness, as his father sometimes had, if Cole’s mother was to be believed. As Kelley instructed a server to bring water, Cole glanced over the other man. He stood almost as tall as Cole, a rare feat amongst humans. Demons, the ones not subject to selective breeding favouring a shorter statue, often matched Cole for height, if not for breath, though Jasper managed both.

Beside his height, Kelley’s face was almost remarkably plain with a jaw speckled with a neatly trimmed silver and coal beard and an upper lip twitching with drink-fuelled energy. Cole knew Kelley had met Cole’s father as a young man and had occupied a place in James Devon’s life longer than Cole had. Now, although Kelley was drawing towards a similar age to Cole’s father when he had died, hadn’t descended into crumpled skin and a loose gut but stood stronger and prouder than many far younger men with the forest-green of his rich clothing emphasising the health of his body rather than hiding it. Cole had only been ten when his father had died, a day before his sixtieth birthday, Cole being the final result of a long line of miscarriages and bastard children, none of which Cole’s mother would acknowledge – but he remembered Kelley as an unnerving figure of loudness and painful energy and a frequent visitor at their family home; the empty halls of which Cole now occupied.

A server arrived with Cole’s water and he took it,

“Were you interested?” Cole found Kelley’s attention on him and turned to follow where the man’s nod indicated. The demon server who had brought over the apple drink was stood at a nearby table, lightly refilling his silver tray with a rainbow of freshly chilled fizzlers. The demon noticed them turned his way and, as far away as he and Kelley were, Cole saw the male’s shudder and his wide, scared eyes lingered in Cole’s mind’s eye long after the demon had dipped his head and hurried smoothly on. It didn’t escape Cole’s notice that the male headed to the opposite end of the hall.

Cole heard Kelley laugh quietly, “A little skittish.” He said, smiling genuinely at Cole when Cole turned back to him, raising an eyebrow.

“My tastes occasionally move that way, but tonight is for business.” Cole said lightly, “I assume I have your discretion?”

“Naturally.” Kelley said, “A shame that you don’t wish to indulge, but there will be plenty of opportunities. I intend for us to be as close friends as your father and I were.”

“I would like that.” Cole said and Kelley rewarded him with a straight-toothed smile.

“Would I be correct in assuming this one is for pleasure?” Kelley said, still smiling, as he gestured behind Cole. Cole didn’t look over his shoulder; he knew Jasper was there, blank and immoveable,

“He has various functions.” Cole said, keeping his tone flat, though his words were ambiguous and Kelley eyes glinted with a hunger, repelling Cole for the first time since they’d become reacquainted.

“Anything else would be a waste.” Kelley said, innocently enough, before leaning towards Cole slightly. Cole repressed the unease in his belly and didn’t move an inch, eying Kelley with only polite interest, “I so glad that your preferences move in similar ways to mine,” he said, giving Cole that look laden with shared secrets, “Your father was a brilliant man, but he was entirely disinterested in anything without a cunt.” The sudden vulgarity took Cole off guard and he stood motionless as Kelley spoke, “There is much beauty to be found in the male form, wouldn’t you agree?” Cole delayed by swallowing a mouthful of water, the moisture sticking to his lips so that Cole’s fingers twitched to wipe away the residue. He didn’t miss how Kelley’s eyes dropped to his lips when he rolled his tongue over them.

“All forms hold some beauty,” Cole responded finally, “but I admit that some hold more than others.” Kelley laughed,

“Indeed!” He said, “Now, I invite you to allow me to introduce you to my closest associates and allies, wonderful people all of them, although not to be trusted!” He laughed again, heartily, though his eyes were sharp on Cole’s face, watching for his reaction,

“I will follow your lead.” Cole said easily, before tilting his head to look Kelley in the eye, “I know that my father chose well in trusting you, now that we have met as men.” Cole hoped he saw some kind of satisfaction in Kelley’s face, behind that empty joviality as the man took Cole’s arm to lead him through the crowd which was clustered in groups.

Cole glanced over his shoulder for the first time that night, unable, like Orpheus, to keep himself from checking that Jasper was behind him. He was, the demon rising gracefully from where he’d been kneeling. Their eyes met for a moment and Cole was unnerved by the blank glassiness of Jasper’s eyes. Then they focused on Cole and sharpened, Jasper’s upper lip lifting slightly to reveal a flash of teeth. Cole smiled as he turned away. That was the Jasper he was familiar with.

Kelley introduced Cole to a number of different people and Cole did his best to be charismatic whilst still maintaining an aloof, professional dignity. Kelley left him for a time before returning an hour or so later with a light touch on Cole’s shoulder and the offer of another drink,

“Just water.” Kelley assured him and Cole took it with a nod of thanks, “There is talk of a game,” Kelley said, his expression playful, “and I’d be honoured if you’d join us.”

“What kind of a game might that be?”

“A game of obedience.” Cole’s stomach tightened nauseously. The demons, Kelley meant. “It’s always very entertaining.” Kelley lifted his eyebrows, daring Cole to participate and Cole did his best to seem vaguely disinterested and not alarmed whilst his head was a turmoil of thoughts. Against his instincts, he stepped closer to Kelley,

“I don’t enjoy sharing.” Kelley smiled toothily,

“It’s nothing like that,” He said, “Any time you don’t like it, you can pull out.”

“Of course.” Cole said, though he knew that wasn’t true; enter a public show like this and he wouldn’t be able to withdraw without losing face. It would better to not participate at all than to pull out at a later stage. And yet, if Jasper performed well, this could do his image considerable good. “Will you be participating?” Cole asked,

“Not this time,” Kelley said, “But any guest without a demon is welcome to take a server if they wish to participate. I’m sure they will find them quiet willing to please.” Cole struggled to avoid his disgust showing on his face and instead looked down to Jasper. The demon was kneeling behind him, close enough that Jasper’s knee was within a hand span of Cole’s heel, his head bowed next to Cole’s knee. His head was respectfully bowed, his posture perfect, and Cole found himself momentarily stunned. Previously, he might have assumed that Jasper had had neglectful, sub-standard or amateur owners that hadn’t taught him how it was normal for demons to behave, but that was clearly not the case. That Jasper knew, and could perform so perfectly, made his wilfulness all the most striking, and impressive.

“Will you be good for me tonight, hm pet?” Cole said, lowering his tone to rough arrogance. He hoped Jasper knew the real question he was asking, ‘Are you willing to do this?’

“Yes, master.” Jasper all but purred, looking up through his hair to meet Cole’s eyes. It was meant to look seductive, daring, and it did, but Cole thought he saw consent in Jasper’s bright eyes. It was confirmed as Jasper’s hand subtly moved to Cole’s ankle and squeezed, once. Jasper was comfortable by developments and Cole found that some of the mass of tension that had been colonising his stomach, dissipated. It was enough, had to be.

“Don’t disappoint me.” He said. Jasper looked up at him with the wide eyed docility of a calf,

“I won’t, master.” The compliance sickened Cole but he forced a small smile and looked up to meet Kelley’s expectant gaze,

“After you, then, James.” He said, “Let’s have a little entertainment.” Kelley’s guileless grin turned wicked as he turned away, clapping his hands twice.

“Ladies and gentlemen, a moment of your time!” Quiet fell in a gradual wave until all eyes in the grand hall were on Kelley, all eyes bar the demons’, which remained on the floor or averted. Kelley began to speak of his fortune in life and his great joy to be surrounded tonight by his closest friends and Cole’s fingers twitched to touch Jasper’s hair, the demon’s head barely inches from Cole’s thigh, but his hand didn’t moved from his side.

“And, as I’m sure many of you are aware, the great man who set me, not only my feet but lent me his time, his wisdom, and, most importantly, his whiskey, Graham Devon.” Cole started at the sound of his father’s name and a few heads – those Kelley had introduced Cole to tonight and scant others – turned Cole’s way. “I would say,” Kelley said, meeting Cole’s eyes with that boyish, asymmetrical, charming and apparently entirely genuine smile on his face, “that they don’t make men like Graham anymore, but they do, in fact.” Kelley’s voice was lower, sincerity oozing from his warm eyes. He raised his glass, the liquid inside glittering, “To Cole Devon, the spitting image of his father; I welcome sharing the remainder of my days with such a worthy successor of Graham’s blood.” His next words were addressed straight to Cole who held himself steady under the scrutiny. He was his father’s son, after all. “You were wanted for a long time, my boy, but hell, you were worth the wait!” There was light laughter and Cole raised his glass to Kelley,

“You are as charming as you are rich, my friend.” He said, letting something of his father’s occasionally obnoxious arrogance into his words. Kelley laughed heartily,

“I raise my glass to that!” He laughed, “To Cole Devon!” Cole’s name was echoed through the hall and Cole smiled and swallowed his water. He felt nothing for the people who had his name on their lips.

“And now to the entertainment! Drink up, my dear guests, everything is more enjoyable when you are intoxicated.” Again, laughter, and Cole watched as the servers rushed to and fro, supplying the sudden demand for drinks. There was a sudden, purposeful movement towards the front of the hall as Kelley organised his guests with their demons in tow, some taking hold of one of the line of leashed servers which had appeared suddenly along the far wall, looking like statues. They trotted behind the guests that took hold of their leashes with perfect obedience and Cole pitied them.

“Cole!” Kelley called his name from the front of the hall and Cole strode forwards to meet him, leaving his empty glass on the side, “This is for you. Or more accurately, not for you,” Kelley’s grin was devilish, “but for that striking creature at your side.” A strip of black, opaque material was pressed into Cole’s hand and Cole glanced down at it, recognising it quickly and feeling his stomach sink. He didn’t speak, but turned to Jasper where he was stood behind Cole, not yet having had the chance to go to his knees. Cole saw Jasper’s nostrils flare, his eyes widening momentarily in an instinctive reaction to the blindfold. Cole tied it firmly but not tightly over Jasper’s eyes and was ashamed of a stirring in his groin at the sight of the silken, black material against Jasper’s cheekbones. Jasper didn’t move away but stood motionless and tense, waiting.

Kelley’s hand clapped down on Cole’s shoulder and Cole allowed himself to be led through one of the side arches of the hall and along the wide corridor behind, his hand on Jasper’s wrist to guide the demon. Kelley’s guests included the participators in Kelley’s ‘entertainment’ with their blinded demons trailing behind them, as well as the other guests, spectators, strolling more leisurely and talking together in polite, well-mannered but slightly tipsy voices. The corridor was lit by red wall lamps, puddles of yellow light from the main hall spilling through the arches, before they passed, like the perverted mirror image of a church procession, under another archway and into a second hall, beyond. If Cole had ever seen beyond the main hall on one of the few trips here with his father as a child, he did not remember it. This second hall was half the size of the first and more claustrophobic-feeling for it, its walls lit almost seductively in red. There was a large, square pit in the centre of the room, dropping down about ten feet with no railing around the edge. Cole found his eyes drawn to it and Kelley’s words ran through his head; ‘a game of obedience’. Cole felt sick and deeply weary and he had to fight to keep the stress from showing on his face. If Jasper could be as stoically brave as he was being, blinded as he was, then Cole could too. If this went too far, then his reputation be damned, he would get Jasper out of there.

“Thank you, ladies and gentleman, no closer, please, we don’t want any accidents.” Kelley’s voice rang out in the stone chamber and Cole felt Jasper’s wrist twitch in Cole’s hold. “Let’s line the demons up then, put them on this line here, not too close together.” Kelley gestured to where there was a white line, painted about three meters from the edge of the pit. Cole forced his feet forward to take Jasper to the line, “Now no cheating,” Kelley urged, “No talking to the animals; their not knowing is half the fun!” Polite laughter. Cole said nothing to Jasper but he did squeeze the demon’s wrist once before he left Jasper on the line and stepped away.

“If all spectators could remain here, that would be excellent.” Kelley commanded the room like a conductor and seemed to take great pleasure in it, “Participants, if you would be so kind as to follow me.” Kelley moved gracefully, his powerful body fully in control as he led them a short distance away from the pit over to where there was a hole in the floor that Cole hadn’t previously noticed, and a stone staircase leading, presumably, down to the pit below. Cole’s stomach churned as Kelley directed them to descend whilst he himself stayed at the top. Cole and the other guests emerged at the far end of the pit, the sand on the pit floor shifting under his feet. Cole could just make out Jasper over the lip of the pit, the walls seeming impossibly tall from below. Jasper was standing still and self-possessed where some of the other demons were holding themselves rigid with nerves.

Cole moved into place along the back wall. This was a fighting pit; illegal for humans but anything else was fair game, demons included. Cole began to see how the evening might pan out; this first, walking the demons over the drop, and then later, those who completed the first task without broken bones could fight in the pit, leaving a winner. Cole was down here so that he could call Jasper, he thought. Soon enough, Kelley spoke again from the top of the pit,

“Just a small disclaimer, good people; this is a little light entertainment and I hope you won’t take it too seriously, but be warned, demons have injured themselves during this activity before. We had a broken spine once, I think, so,” he spread his hands, “if anyone would like to pull out now.” He left the offer open but the silence hung too heavy to break. Cole’s palms sweated, though he told himself that Kelley was saying this primarily to scare the blind demons. They did not know what they were facing.

“Well, let the game begin, then!” Kelley said, gleeful as a child, “My dear guests, please call your demons.” There was a chorus of names called but Cole, inattentive, his heart pounding distractingly loud in his head, responded late,

“Jasper.” He said. His voice was rough and quiet but in the dead silence after the main chorus, his seemed to sink into and resonate around the walls of Kelley’s crypt-like hall and Cole felt his face flush in humiliation. He straightened his spine slightly and squared his jaw, as if he had intentionally called for his demon late.

Jasper moved before even a second had passed, striding forwards with a confidence that the other advancing demons, moving with cautious steps even as they tried to seem confident, lacked. It was that innate certainty and power that Cole had seen first in Jasper’s picture, glaring out from the page. And now, Jasper moved as if he could not only see, but had walked across this stone floor a thousand times.

Cole’s breath caught in frozen horror and fascination, fighting back the impulse to shout a warning as Jasper came with two steps, a step of the edge and then over it, his stride not faltering when his foot met only air.

Jasper dropped like a stone and landed like cat, the impact of foot on sand quiet but definite. Rising out of his crouch, Jasper stood poised,

“Here, boy.” Cole said, allowing slight impatience to colour his tone, though he was inwardly staggered by Jasper’s response. None of the other demons had yet to even come near to the edge. Jasper’s poise was uncanny, his neat landing preternatural.

Jasper moved directly towards Cole’s voice,

“Kneel.” Cole said and Jasper did so instantly. This close, Cole could see that Jasper was trembling minutely and that there was a sheen of sweat on Jasper’s neck. It made Cole’s admiration swell further; Jasper wasn’t a robot, and nor was he fearless, he was just braver than Cole could ever dream of being. “Good boy.” Cole purred genuinely, Jasper’s head tilted up but unseeing. Silence hung expectantly for a moment before applause broke out. Jasper flinched minutely, like a horse’s flank twitching as a fly landed on its skin and Cole itched to soothe him. Kelley’s voice broke in over the applause after a few moments,

“Incredible, Devon, just phenomenal. And I thought that one was a recent acquisition!” Cole waited for the applause to die completely before speaking,

“He is.” Cole said quietly, aware that his words carried, before looking down at Jasper, “Have you done that before, pet?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“No sir.” Jasper’s low voice made Cole’s cock stir again. He hummed quietly before looking up at Kelley, stood over the pit like a god.

“I believe if there is a prize for this game, I have won it, James.” Kelley laughed,

“The prize is glory, and perhaps a bottle of good fizzler, if you’d care to take it.” Cole would personally pour it down the sink,

“I wouldn’t refuse.” He said as charmingly as he knew how.

“Excellent. The rest of you, coax your demons forwards. The game is not over until they have all come forward.”

The demons advanced in a wavering line, toppling over the edge with cut off yells and whimpers of shock, landing either with luck, on their feet, or with a sickening crunch of ribs, arm, foot. Several limped away. One crawled. But they were all returned to their owners. Cole watched in silence with Jasper in front of him, perfectly poised as a jackal and still sightless. He had stopped trembling but was still tense. Cole wanted to touch Jasper’s hair, comfort the male and remind him that he wasn’t alone; that Cole would look after him. But Cole’s hand never moved from his side. He knew Jasper would take it as an offense to his pride, worse; Cole taking advantage of the situation by touching when the demon wouldn’t say no. Cole’s stomach tightened uncomfortably at the thought and pulled his mind away.

“Come up here, will you Cole?” Cole looked up to find Kelley looking over the edge of the pit at him, the other guests having advanced to peer down at him. Cole didn’t like the eyes on him, nor the feeling of being trapped; the walls high enough to be claustrophobic.

Cole steadied his courage and moved to follow the other guests back up to ground level, guiding Jasper by the wrist. Some of the guests had left their demons kneeling in the sand, presumably to participate in the fights Cole was certain would take place. The prospect of the leaving the pit was attractive and Cole moved with long strides towards the exit.

“Leave the demon.” Kelley said, and then, when Cole turned to look coldly at him, seemed to realise he’d been too abrupt, “If it would please you, of course.” Cole’s brows lowered. Kelley wanted to see Jasper fight. Cole did not. He paused a moment too long and Kelley jumped in, “Another time, perhaps?” He said, spreading his hands, seeming to be trying to make up for his earlier faux pas.

“Perhaps.” Cole acquiesced, moving with false confidence up the stairs to the pit outside, a tightness in his stomach uncurling as he, and Jasper soundless behind him, emerged from the narrow corridor that led to the pit. He caught the arm of a server to ask for juice.

“Drink it.” Cole said, freeing Jasper of the blindfold to offer him the glass. Cole had positioned himself and Jasper mostly out of sight behind one of columns but he still glanced up around them to check they were unnoticed when Jasper, his eyes unfocused, smartly turned his head away from the glass in blatant refusal. Cole frowned at him,

“You need the sugar.” Cole said quietly.

“You don’t know what’s in it.” Jasper hissed in return. Cole relented and set the juice down on the side. He didn’t think he would win an argument with Jasper’s paranoia.

“What are you doing hiding over here, Cole?” Cole hadn’t noticed Kelley’s approach and he barely prevented himself from starting, “A demon like yours should be shown off. Others do so with far less reason to!” Cole didn’t force a smile but gave Kelley a slightly cool look. He waited a moment before answering, to show his displeasure at having previously been so uncouthly put on the spot,  

“He was uneasy with the crowd.” He said, regretting his words when they drew Kelley’s attention to Jasper. It made Cole want to step between them, though he firmly told himself that this possessiveness would do no good, not now and certainly not when they returned home.

“He behaves magnificently well for a recent purchase.” Kelley said; both a compliment and a prompt, leaning against a nearby pillar. Cole’s hand found its way into Jasper’s hair, short but slippery under his fingers, before he fully realised it. He withdrew his hand as soon as he could, Jasper's unease was tangible though he hadn't moved an inch, as if it that had been Cole's intention.

“He was acquired from Buckley Auction House a few weeks ago.” Kelley raised his eyebrows,

“Isn’t that curious.” He said, frowning mildly. “I looked over that batch,” Kelley smiled to show that he didn’t mean any disrespect but was merely puzzled. “Surely such an attractive creature wouldn’t have slipped my mind.” Cole laughed quietly,

“I would be surprised if you had seen him.” He said. “He was near the back.” He didn’t offer a reason and Kelley’s eyebrows climbed higher,

“How in hell did you get him trained like that?” He asked, incredulousness colouring his tone. Cole smiled enigmatically as he considered his answer. Jasper’s words, spoken sharply, returned to him suddenly,

“I made him love me.” Kelley barked a surprised laugh, reappraising Cole,

“Is that so?” He said. “And how did you manage that small miracle?” Cole gave him a small smile,

“You would be surprised how motivating pain and care can be when put together in the right quantities.” He said quietly. Kelley shook his head,

“Oh no, I wouldn’t be surprised; I saw the evidence tonight.” Cole inclined his head, “I would be curious to see him in the pit.” Kelley continued and Cole’s face hardened, “Not tonight, of course,” Kelley added, “If that is too soon. But,” he paused, “the ones with colourful pasts are always the most entertaining.”

“Indeed?” Cole said, turning to catch Kelley’s gaze, “I don’t gamble when I am not entirely confident of the outcome.”

“You must not gamble at all, if that’s the case!” Kelley said, laughing. Cole shrugged lightly,

“I am sure of his obedience.” He said, “His fighting ability, however, I haven’t had the opportunity to investigate as of yet.” Cole couldn’t imagine that Jasper was anything but a capable fighter; the male moved with such lithe, innate power it seemed inevitable that he would dominate any opponent put in front of him, or half kill himself trying. While a part of Cole hungered to see how Jasper’s animalistic force transferred to the pit, he could think of little he wanted to see less than Jasper be hurt. Kelley was looking him with an assessing eye,

“You are wary.” Kelley observed carefully. “It is an unusual trait for a man of your age. Your father was much more reckless in his youth. Perhaps he told you?" Cole privately wished Kelley would cease comparing them.

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know.” He said, “I was really only a child.” Kelley looked saddened,

“Well, don’t hesitate to ask.” He said, “Graham deserved to be known by his son.”

“Thank you.” Cole said, a little stiffly.

“How about we return to the pit-side? I believe a fight is about to commence.” Almost on cue, the wave noise of the crowd, just beginning to be broken down by alcohol, the surrounding energy and their oft-suppressed base instinct, crested. “By the end of the night, the crowd is more animal than the demons.” Kelley said. Cole returned the man's smile wolfishly,

“I understand the appeal.” He said. And he did. He just preferred to be on the receiving end of animal power. Kelley matched his grin,

“I believe our partnership will be long and fruitful.” He said pleasantly, his bared teeth suggesting illicit acts and scandals shared. Cole only smiled.

The party went on and Cole watched the fights and wished that he were somewhere else. Jasper was a silent, stoic presence at his side and Cole ended up gripping the hem of his jacket to stop his fingers finding their way to Jasper’s head. It was absurd to crave the contact but he longed for the grounding influence of having his hands on someone else’s warm skin.

A fight ended and Cole tensed at the sudden uptick of noise reverberating around the stone hall. His hand tightened around his glass and a sharp pain bit into his palm,

“Fuck.” Cole spat before he’d even realised what had happened. Glass shards glittered on the ground around his feet, and there was blood spilling down his slightly shaking hand, dripping to the floor. Cole growled in irritation, looking around for a server and finding that several pairs of eyes were turned his way,

“That looks painful.” An elegant woman in pale green came over to him, boldly taking his bleeding hand in hers and making a small sound of consideration. Cole went to remove the offending piece of glass from where it was embedded in his skin, but the woman lightly pushed his fingers away, “Leave it in.” She schooled, “It’ll only bleed if you take it out now.” Cole saw the logic of it and felt frustrated by his sluggish thoughts. The woman hailed a server for him, her slim, tea-coloured fingers still holding his injured hand. He was bleeding on her, he realised, his blood stark and rich against her skin,

“My apologies,” he tried, his voice strained. She was standing too close to him for a stranger with her face, unusual but not unattractive; strong features conveying intelligence and proud, aristocratic power, close to his shoulder, “I find myself somewhat absent-minded.” The woman smiled at Cole like she knew the truth of him and Cole found it deeply unnerving.

“You don’t know your strength.” She said neutrally and Cole agreed mindlessly. A server returned with hot towels and water, another following behind with a length of bandage.

“You are very kind,” he said to the woman as she drew him out of the crowd and pushed him lightly to sit down so that she could bathe his hand. Cole’s pride prickled at it, “But this is unnecessary.” He wouldn't have allowed his servants to do this, nor his mother but he found it difficult to refuse this woman, who seemed not to be fretting over him but merely getting done what needed to be got done. He winced as her fingers, sure and capable, plucked the thin but viciously sharp glass shard from his hand before mopping up the fresh gush of blood with a hot towel. When she rinsed the towel back in the water, it bled pink into the bowl.

“Nonsense.” The woman said as she patted his hand dry. Cole was watching how she efficiency, neatly, bound his hand when there was a sudden choked cry off to the left. His head snapped up and Cole realised with a muttered curse that Jasper wasn’t by his side: when had Cole lost him? His hand slid from the woman’s warm fingers as he stood and Cole was blind to her as he scanned the crowd, still clustered around the pit but now alert to something going on just off to the left.

“ _You do not own me_.” The emphatic but strained words cut through Cole to his stomach and he started forwards, shoving people out of his way and disrupting drinks as he went.

Breaking through, a glance at the situation had anger gathering under Cole’s skin like pent up lightning. He fought the instinct that pulled him towards Jasper, on the floor, and coldly eyed instead the man that was stood over the demon, looking down at Jasper with an expression of outrage and extreme dislike.

“Take your foot off his throat.” Cole said. There was a sick, leaden weight in his stomach and a gathering pressure in his arms that made his fingers twitch.

“This creature is yours?” Cole barely heard the man speak, only knew that the man’s boot was still on Jasper’s throat and Cole was done with asking. The man’s wet lips were opening to speak again, his face twisted in derision, but Cole strode forwards with short precise clicks of his heels and shoved the man backwards so that his heel was off Jasper’s throat before crushing the man’s nose under the heel of Cole's injured palm. The sharp spike of pain only fed Cole’s fury. The crunch of something, cartilage, and the spurt of blood had been worth it. Cole took the feeling, gasping man by the collar of his expensive jacket, the fabric tearing under Cole’s hand, and slammed him into a pillar. The man’s face was a bloodied mess, his eyes blown wide and his mouth open and sucking in quick, short inhales like a beached fish.

“I do not ask twice.” Cole said, very precisely. He stepped back, releasing the man’s collar and watching with a detached sense of vindication when the man staggered before regaining his feet, his hand pressed to his face.

“You're an animal.” He said, staring aghast at Cole. Cole was impassive.

“Don’t touch what’s mine.” He said, stepping forward to wipe the blood that was on his hand on man’s shirt but had to force himself to appear cold when he saw Jasper coming unsteadily to his feet in his peripheral vision.

“You have no idea,” The man raised a finger to point at Cole and Cole had the fleeting urge to step forward and take that finger and push it back until it snapped. He repressed it. “What kind of a creature that demon is.” Cole looked coldly at the man, “He is a snake, a back-stabbing evil thing. You will see." The man laughed sharply, wincing at the pain in his face.

“Were you not present earlier?” Cole said, very coldly, aware of the eyes of Kelley’s guests on them, “He has come to heel quite nicely, under my hands.” The man was shaking his head,

“Oh no,” he said, "It is all lies. He is a fine actor-” Cole took a sudden step forwards and the man broke off, stepping warily back.

“I tire of your talk.” Cole snapped. Kelley came into view, staring at Cole with a mixture of horror and fascination and Cole was irritated that things had turned out this way. This evening was supposed to be him establishing his reputation as capable, responsible, powerful. This animal brutality was not what he had wanted to display, but he couldn’t have allowed that kind of insult to slide, not professionally and not personally.

He itched to turn to Jasper and touch the demon, to check over his throat and ensure that the male was fine but as it was he had to do something to reestablish himself as a civilised man.

 “Kelley- James,” he corrected himself, “My thanks for the invitation. It has been a pleasant evening,” he paused to glance at the bloodied man leaning on the pillar, “overall. The Devon family doors will always be open to you.” Kelley looked pained,

“I am honoured,” he managed, “May I apologise-”

“Please don’t.” Cole said, “I regret that I allowed my," he paused, "possessiveness to overcome my manners.” Cole was distracted by the approach of the woman in the green dress and any further conversation with Kelley was forgotten. Her hair fell in dark, carefully sculpted waves, but it was her eyes, bright, cuttingly sharp and not at all dissimilar to Jasper’s, that struck Cole when when she came towards him and offered her arm,

“Perhaps I might escort you to your carriage, Mr Devon.” She said, dignified. Cole pulled his lips into a smile and hoped it didn’t look too feral.

“I would be honoured, Miss…”

“Myers. Katherine Myers. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is entirely mine.” Cole said formally. He found himself intrigued by this woman. Was she here alone? What interest did she have in him? He took her lightly by the arm, careful not to bloody her dress with his bloodied hand, and they left the hall together, Cole glancing over his shoulder just once to reassure himself that Jasper was behind him. Cole wasn’t prepared for the emptiness of the demon’s expression and his stride faltered slightly before he corrected it. He didn’t think the woman, Myers, noticed the change.

“I don’t like it when men run from me.” She said in a low voice as they were approaching the doors to Kelley’s lavishly excessive home. Cole turned to smile at her,

“I can’t imagine it happens often.” He said smoothly, “You have my sincerest apologies, Katherine,” Her eyes brightened at the sound of her name in his mouth as he lingered on it. Gods, but he was tired. “I had no desire to run from you. Quite the opposite, in fact. However, my pride wouldn’t allow an insult on my property.”

“Quite.” Katherine said, refusing her coat when it was offered to her, but taking Cole’s from the server. Cole was vaguely impressed that she seemed nonplussed by the weight of it when he found it tiring to hold aloft as she was doing, offering to help him into it. Cole smirked arrogantly at the blatant daring of the familiarity and allowed her to help him into the heavy fur, moving in front of him to turn up the collar.

"I have to say I am surprised that you weren't off put by my behavior." He smiled charmingly, "It was not very polite."

Her mouth, thin and a little too wide, was wickedly upturned. “I had no objection to the display.” She said, her face too close to his. Cole repressed the urge to step backwards. “I appreciate it when people do not deny what they are.”

“Oh?” Cole said, “And what are we?” She was still smiling as she moved back a little, her hand lingering on his shoulder for a moment,

“Animals.” She purred and Cole crooked an eyebrow,

“You have a low opinion of humanity.” He said lightly,

“Quite the opposite,” she flirted, tossing his words back at him, “Our base nature is the best of us. I wouldn’t mind another display of yours sometime, if you were so inclined.” Cole choked on a laugh,

“My, but I like you.” He said, and wasn’t entirely lying. “Don’t be a stranger, Katherine.” He said, dismissing her in a manner that he knew would infuriate her. Walking towards the door he looked back and caught her expression of outraged dissatisfaction and grinned cockily at her before passing out of the warmth of Kelley’s porch and into dark night.

The smile fell from his face and Cole’s shoulders slumped under the weight of his father’s coat. There was a demon server by his side but Cole paid him no heed and openly turned to look for Jasper for the first time that night. He was there, walking as a silent shadow, his silhouette outlined by the blazing windows of Kelley’s house. Cole wanted nothing more than to already be home. He felt overloaded and unbearably raw.

He stepped up into his carriage and heard Jasper climb in behind, falling to kneel at Cole’s feet as the server closed the door on the carriage. Jasper was off his knees as soon as the door latched and Cole flinched as something small hit him suddenly in the chest. Feeling around in the blackness, Cole found a narrow piece of leather, still warm from Jasper’s skin, had dropped into his lap. Exhaling heavily, Cole dropped the collar on the seat next to him, swaying with the movement of the carriage as they started off.

“Jasper,” His voice sounded small and weak in the darkness. Effectively blind, the thought that Jasper could see him perfectly clearly discomforted Cole. “Are you-”

A heavy, blunt force slammed into his face and Cole reeled back, his head hitting the carriage wall and a blinding pain making him suck in a breath. His hands came up to his face defensively but Jasper didn’t strike again. Reeling, Cole could hear the demon’s ragged breathing directly in front of him.

Jasper’s hit had only narrowly avoided Cole’s nose, striking instead the hard ridge of bone under his eye. Cole didn’t know whether he’d done or said something to anger Jasper or if the male had simply been so wound tight that he’d needed to release that force violently. Whatever it had been, Cole had been the nearest target.

Instead of speaking and risking Jasper's anger, Cole sat, his hand held lightly to the throbbing flesh of his face, and waited to see whether Jasper would speak.

He tensed rigidly when Jasper’s hands landed abruptly, heavily on Cole's shoulders and grabbed the fabric there in his fists. With his blood loud in his ears, Cole froze rigid. Jasper, his silence scaring Cole almost more than his violence, roughly pulled Cole forwards in his seat and went to drag his father’s coat from his shoulders.

Throwing out his hands to push Jasper away, Cole found only immovable, muscled bulk,

“Jasper,” Cole said, hearing the fear in his voice and hating it. He tried to stop Jasper’s hands but Jasper was too strong, ruthlessly manhandling Cole’s limbs in order to remove the coat, “Jasper, stop, stop this." Cole knew he was pleading, "Please, Jasper-”

“Please,” Jasper mimicked flatly, tossing the coat away and leaving Cole feeling small and cold and unprotected, “You are just another weak,” Jasper’s fingers closed, hot and tight, around the back of Cole’s neck. The shaking of the carriage threw them both off-balance so that Jasper’s grip biting further into Cole’s neck and he cried out. Dragged off the seat, his knees hit the wood with a dull thud and his breath hitched in pain, “pathetic human.” Jasper drove Cole’s head towards the floor and Cole twisted his head to the side as his cheek was shoved towards the filthy wood, Jasper's nails digging into the tendons of Cole’s neck and making it hard to breathe.

Hunched on the gritty floor as it rattled with the movement of the carriage, Cole was shaking hard. He hadn’t known Jasper was capable of such cruelty, whether mimicking a human from his past or acting of his own violation. He could hear Jasper’s ragged breaths above him, his fingers still digging into the sides of Cole’s throat with bruising strength and Cole’s arms straining with the effort of pushing back against Jasper, not in resistance but in an attempt to stop Jasper from cutting off his breathing altogether. Use enough force and, at this angle, Jasper could break Cole’s neck. Even straining against Jasper, Cole’s face was already crushed against the floor, his bruised cheekbone shrieking with pain and his breaths coming in pants. Cole was struggling to hold himself up, the pressure in his head and the pain in his throat were unbearable. His fingers scrabbled uselessly at the floor, seeking purchase and air.

Cole was released so suddenly that he lurched upwards like a released spring and gasped desperately at the air, coughing hard enough that his tender throat felt torn. Freezing air swept over the back of his sweat-damp shirt as Jasper withdrew suddenly, moving away from Cole within the confines of the carriage. Over the sound of his own choked coughing, Cole heard Jasper’s muttered,

“Fuck.” Cole tried to get to his feet, tried to speak but couldn’t, though what he would have said, he didn’t know. He stayed down, the carriage’s jerking motion shaking his form and sickening him.

Cole didn’t hear Jasper open the carriage door but he reeled away from the sudden gust of chilling air that rushed into the carriage.

“Jasper!” The open door hit the side of the carriage with a bang, Cole’s rough, weak shout lost to the wind.

Jasper was already gone, the wind whistling deafening. Cole was weak with the invading cold and the aftermath of Jasper’s violence and he struggled to haul himself to his feet to wrench the door shut, wary not to fall out into the darkness that was whipping past. Dragging open the window, Cole stuck his arm out and thumped on the carriage roof to get the driver’s attention. It took several attempts but eventually the carriage slowed in a series of judders and Cole shakily grabbed his father’s coat off the floor and pulled it on, scrubbing off the grit ground into his cheek just before the driver came to the carriage door and peered inside with his blinding lantern held aloft,

“Is something the matter, Mr Devon?” Cole, his throat feeling ragged, just grunted irritably and pushed the door open to step out, taking the lantern from the man’s hand to stare out into the blackness.

“My demon ran.” Cole gritted out painfully, infuriated by the limited range of the light. He could see nothing beyond its limited circle of yellow light. “Fuck.” Cole growled, striding back down the road they’d come down. “Wait here!” He yelled at the driver, cringing at the rawness of his voice. His walk became a loping run, the lantern swinging. Jasper could have broken his ankle, his leg, in that jump but Cole could see no sign of him, not on the road nor the rough grass edges that opened out onto rolling miles of moorland. The winter wind promised snow and Cole drew his coat around his with a wince at a pain in his ribs. He cursed, traipsing back to the waiting carriage to push the lantern back into the driver’s hand.

“He’s gone.” He said, exhausted by it all. The flush of adrenaline was waning and Cole felt barely able to stay upright. The driver didn’t offer pacifying words but only grunted quietly.

“He won’t make it far, sir.” Cole rubbed a hand over his sore face, feeling the swelling that was developing under his eye.

“How far are we from home?” Cole asked, the wind whistling around his ears,

“A half hour or so, sir. He might find it. Only light around for a way.” Cole nodded,

“Fine. Let’s get out of this blasted cold.”

“Yes sir.” Cole clambered back into the carriage and the driver closed the door behind him before urging the horses back into a fast, jerking trot, the road rough beneath the wheels and jolting Cole’s spine where he was sat inside the carriage.

Putting his back to the side wall and his lifting his feet up onto the seat, Cole curled in on himself and rested his head on his knees remembering the terrible hatred in Jasper’s voice.

Cole felt raw and overwhelmed and he pressed his forehead to his kneecaps and tried desperately not to think about the fact that he may not see Jasper alive again. The weather out here was unforgiving and Jasper had only been wearing a shirt and jacket. And the fall he had taken would have been brutal.

When snow began to splatter the windows, Cole gripped his legs and let numb exhaustion draw him down.


	6. Oaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visitor arrives in the snow.

“Sir?” Cole groggily lifted his head to find the driver peering inside the carriage at him. "Sir are you well?" Cole pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the headache gathering behind his eyes and tried not to think about Jasper.

"Developing a cold, perhaps." Cole said, knowing how rough his voice sounded. He stood, feeling sore and cold inside and out, and stepped down from the carriage step. The driver had always been polite and reliable and Cole felt a stab if shame for his earlier conduct when he’d so rudely pushed the man aside out on the road. "Thank you, Frank. I apologise for my tone, before." Frank's lantern illuminated his face as he shifted in discomfort at the apology,

"Quite all right, sir." Cole nodded and dug a couple of coins out of the pocket of his father's coat. Lores always put coins in Cole’s clothes for tips.

"Give my best to Penny." He said, referring to Frank's wife of thirty odd years as he put the money in the man’s thickly gloved hand.

"Very kind of you, sir. Will do." Cole nodded and walked towards the house where he was quickly welcomed into the warm by Liana. She took the coat from him when he handed it to her, refusing to allow her to help him out of it. It would only remind him of Jasper's cruelty. Liana faltered when she noticed that Jasper was not behind him.

"He jumped out of the carriage." Cole said, wincing at the pain in his throat. Liana's brows crumpled in concern at his words. "I couldn't find him." Liana paused, apparently stunned, for several seconds and something like condemnation or uncertainty passed over her face before it turned to concern, something Cole didn’t feel he’d earnt in the slightest.

"I could set you up a bath, sir," Liana offered maternally, "get you some warm milk?"

"I'd like a snow pack. I believe it’s deep enough outside now." Cole said and Liana made a noise of agreement,

"Falling fast, sir." She said. There was a leaden pause as they both considered the demon that was stranded out there in the dark and snow.

"And the milk." Cole said. "I'll bathe in the morning."

"Of course, sir." Liana said, and Cole inclined his head and retreated slowly upstairs, pausing halfway with the tiredness weighing on him. Liana had already departed to go to the kitchens and the entrance hall lay large and empty at the bottom of the stairs. Cole touched the banister as he felt himself sway. The tiles below were far enough away to shatter a man's back if he were to fall.

Stepping away from the draw of the drop, Cole continued his slow ascent to the top of the stairs and moved down the hallway to sit on his bed. His throat throbbed accusingly but Cole could feel nothing but sadness and regret. Jasper had behaved impeccably and Cole had let him down by being too wrapped up in himself to notice that Jasper was missing from his side.

And now he was gone, likely permanently. Cole thought how he had barely known the demon, but how he’d wanted to, despite the friction between them, and his eyes stung.

Liana brought the warm milk and the packed snow wrapped in cloth up to his room and knocked, entering without waiting for a response.

Putting the glass down on the side, she came to kneel in front of him, reaching up to move the collar of Cole's shirt away from his neck but he jerked his head away before she made contact. Jasper’s grip around his neck had been cold and vicious.

"Oh." She said very quietly before offering the snow pack to him with her mouth turned down unhappily. Cole put the cold pack to his cheek and didn’t meet Liana’s eyes. He didn’t want to see her pity.

“Keep the house lights lit.” Cole instructed quietly. “And open the curtains.” It would make the place dreadfully cold but Cole thought that was a small price to pay if the house lights led Jasper home.

“Yes sir.” Liana rose to stand, wincing a little at her sore knees and Cole put his hand out to steady her. She smiled sadly at him,

“Thank you.” She said. “Goodnight, sir.”

“Goodnight.”

The room felt twice as empty after Liana left and Cole lay back on the bed, pressing the snow pack to his face, unmoving as it melted slowly down his cheek.

Cole woke during the night, finding himself chilled through. The curtains were open, the outline of the glassy black night barely outlined in the darkness, and the snow pack entirely disintegrated into sodden, folded fabric, leaving the pillow damp under his head. Wearily, Cole deposited the snow pack on his bedside table before slowly rising to draw the curtains, finding his way by touch alone. He didn’t allow himself to pause at the black windows, the moon smothered by dark snow clouds, but returned to bed to drag the covers around him. He was still cold, even curled up in a foetal position, and it was a long time before he slept again.

…

 

Cole couldn’t get Jasper out of his mind. After everything, his mother had been right; Jasper had almost killed him. The bruises that Cole had iced until his face was numb attested to that, and Cole found that in the light of day and with having to evade enquiries about his ugly bruises, resentment lay heavily in Cole’s mind. It only partially buried Cole’s guilt.

“Mr Devon?”

“Yes?” Cole looked up from his paperwork, rubbing his eyes and wincing as his hand brushed against his bruised cheek. Ryan looked at him sympathetically,

“Mr Long is here to see you. And your mother sent a missive.” Cole pressed his lips together,

“Send him in. And put my mother off, will you? I don’t- Just not right now.”

“Of course, sir.” Ryan said graciously and left.

Cole didn’t look up as Ryan showed Long inside and closed the door but left the man to stand in front of his desk.

After ten minutes, Long, a big man both in height and girth, walked up to Cole’s desk and put his hands down on it. Cole looked up from his work, none too impressed, to meet the Long’s cold eyes. He saw vague surprise in the man’s eyes as he looked over Cole’s swollen face. Cole’s hand, under the desk, rested on the handle of a small knife he had strapped to the underside. He didn’t trust Long and the man was currently far too close for Cole’s liking. Still, Cole didn’t speak,

“What happened to your face?” Long said finally, moving away from Cole’s desk to drag a chair from the side of the room up in front of Cole’s desk and sit down heavily, directly in front of Cole. Cole didn’t answer but put his fountain pen away with small, precise movements.

“I wasn’t pleased to hear that you had been charged with exploiting your workers, Mr Long.” Cole said.

“With respect, Mr Devon,” Long’s tone made it clear that he had no respect for Cole, only for his money, “I was acquitted.”

“You were.” Cole said, eying Long icily. “I plan to have a representative of mine pay a visit to one of your factories within the next month. I will expect to see that any changes that may need to take place, take place before my representative arrives and remain that way for as long as you and I are in a business partnership.” Long narrowed his eyes,

“I see.” He said flatly. “And when would your representative be planning to visit?” Cole curled his lip,

Cole leaned forwards slightly. “I believe I already told you.” He said coldly, “But I shall repeat myself for you this once: a member of my staff will visit one of your factories within the next month.” Cole picked up his fountain pen again. “You may leave now, unless you have any other questions?” He made it clear that he did not welcome any questions. Long’s face curled into a slow smile,

“And if my facilities don’t meet your exacting standards?” Cole forced himself to reply civilly.

“Then my company will be forced to find an alternative supplier.” Long tilted forwards in his chair to put his hands on Cole’s desk.

“And therein lies the fault in your reasoning.” Long said. Cole glanced pointedly down at the large hands resting on the edge of the desk before meeting Long’s wolf-like gaze.

“Care to elaborate?” Cole said, his hands sweating. Long smirked,

“You know full well what I mean.” Long said, leaning back to rest his forearms on the armrests of his chair, legs splayed with the arrogance of a king. “There are no other textile suppliers that offer the goods at the price I do, not with the rioting up North.” Cole said nothing for several moments,

“Make sure your facility meets my standards and we won’t have any problems. You don’t want to lose my custom, either, Mr Long.” Long’s smirk faded a little and he stood, the legs of the chair scraping against the floor,

“Very well, Mr Devon.” He said, perfect as a demon, “We will be expecting your representative.” Cole inclined his head before picking up his fountain pen to finish annotating the sales predictions for next spring and summer. Under the desk, his hand didn’t leave the handle of his knife until Long had left the room.

Almost immediately after the door had closed, there was a sharp knocking and Cole sighed heavily,

“Come in, Ryan.” He said, glancing at his watch. It was only three o’clock and yet the dark hung heavily around his windows. Ryan opened the door and came only a couple of steps inside,

“Sir, I thought you might care to know that the snow is now coming down heavily. If you’re planning to return home today-” Cole quickly blotted his papers and began putting them away hastily,

“Have a carriage readied.” He said, “I’ll not be staying here overnight.”

“Of course, sir.” Ryan departed swiftly and Cole stood to take his coat and hat off the stand, his thoughts on Jasper.

Cole needed him to be home tonight. The longer Jasper was gone, and with the weather being the way it was, Cole found himself increasingly less resentful and more ill.

The carriage finally rattled its way down the long drive to the house and Cole was out of the carriage and heading inside before the company driver had climbed down from his seat. The snow was thick under Cole’s work shoes and seemed to cling at the soles, slowing him down. He knocked at the door with the heel of his hand and waited, cold and trembling with anticipation. Liana answered holding a lantern and Cole was briefly blinded,

“Welcome-”

“Is Jasper-?” Her face, sad and tight around the mouth, gave Cole his answer. He didn’t move for a long moment, numb to the steadily falling snow and the cold.

“Fuck.” He muttered, turning around slowly to look out on the blackness. Jasper, the bastard, was somewhere out there, somewhere. Cole dropped his work bag and slammed a foot into the porch support, “Fucking,” _kick_ , “asshole,” _kick_ , “bastard.” He collapsed on the step, “Fucking getting himself killed over a party,” Cole screwed his hands into his hair.

“Sir, come inside.” Liana urged. Cole allowed her to pull him gently to his feet and lift his coat off his shoulders, feeling so incredibly heavy. He swallowed thickly and tried to shake his head out of its blurriness. 

Jasper was a demon; a murderous, unpredictable demon. Cole shouldn’t fucking care, not like he did.

“Sir?” Cole realised he’d zoned out on what Liana had been saying,

“What?”

“We kept some dinner for you on the stove, sir.” She repeated, and then more gently, “You should eat.”

“Right.”

“Are you well, sir?” Liana said, when he didn’t move. Cole hummed noncommittedly and Liana looked at him as if she knew exactly what he wasn’t saying. She only inclined her head.

Cole moved for the dining room and she left him, returning to bring him his food. The room was so silent with only him in it and Cole set his fork down on the plate with a sad click without ever eating a mouthful, staring at the wall opposite.

He didn’t know where the feeling came from – his crushing disappointment at Jasper’s absence, however farfetched his hope had been, perhaps – but he suddenly felt so incredibly lonely. He had his mother, whom he loved despite everything, and his staff, kinder and more loyal than he deserved, but it wasn’t enough. Cole wanted to knock the plate off the table – his hand itched to do so – but he didn’t want his staff to have to clear it up, and he certainly didn’t have the patience to do it himself.

“Sir?” Cole knew it was Liana by her voice but he didn’t look up. “Miss Myers has just arrived, sir, if you’d like to see her.” Silence. Cole took the napkin off his lap and stood up, only to sit heavily back down again.

“Myers.” He muttered. The party, Jasper, the carriage.

“Yes, sir. Shall I inform her that you’re not well?”

“I’m well.” Cole said, “Don’t put words in my mouth.” Liana didn’t have to respond and Cole sighed heavily and rose from his seat. “What the hell is she doing here this time of night?” He said.

“She mentioned the snow, sir. Lores is showing her through to the drawing room.”

“Of course. I see.” Cole said and got to his feet. He trailed behind Liana out of the room and into the entrance hall when his head came up sharply, finding Katherine stood there, in a stunning, expensively tailored green dress, none the worse for the weather. Lores appearing uncomfortable at her side and nodded to Cole apologetically.

Katherine looked at Cole with the same sharp, almost lupine attentiveness she had shown at the party and Cole drew himself upwards and attempted a smile. Striking though Miss Myers may be, Cole didn’t trust her not to attack him and so he drew his coldness around him like a shroud.

“How are you, Katherine?” He said, coming forwards to kiss her hand. Her fingers were warm and dry and oddly callused near the tips but he didn’t comment, only tucked the information away. “I must apologise that you have been left waiting here-”

“Oh no, don’t apologise, your man here was quite cordial in wishing to escort me to the drawing room,” She gestured to Lores who inclined his head, “But I insisted on waiting.” Katherine paused, a satisfied little smile tilting her lips, “See, I have a little something to return to you and I, cruel creature I am, wished it to a be surprise.” Cole didn’t even dare think, but held his breath, watching her and her smiling eyes, “But do open the front door. Your present should be right on the porch.” _It won’t be Jasper_ , Cole told himself firmly, _it won’t be. Don’t let yourself be overwhelmed by false hope again. Jasper is gone_. But his heart was beating furiously in his chest.

Lores stepped forwards as if to open the door but Cole waved him away and, glancing once over his shoulder at Katherine, opened the door.

Jasper was kneeling on the porch, trembling slightly.

“God,” Cole whispered, his knees weakening. He wanted to kneel in front of Jasper and hold him. He wanted to shout until Jasper understood how scared Cole had been. He wanted to feel the proof under his fingers that Jasper was real.

But he couldn’t; not with Katherine watching. So Cole tipped his head back to swallow his emotion and sucked at the freezing air in order to steady himself, not trusting himself to look at Jasper for fear he would unmask himself. Jasper had not even met his eyes.

“How very unexpected.” Cole said, his voice quite steady as he turned to face Katherine. She was looking at him with shrewd eyes and a warm smile, “Come through to the drawing room so I can pour you a drink,” He turned to look at the man, a stranger belonging to Katherine’s employee, standing over Jasper, “Bring him inside and shut that awful cold out.” Turning back to Katherine, “And you can tell me where on this goddamned, frost-bitten earth you found him.” Katherine laughed,

“I accept,” She said warmly, taking the arm he offered her, “but only as long as the drink is something stronger than tea. I had an atrocious trip and a strictly medicinal brandy would do me nicely.” Cole’s smile wasn’t entirely forced,

“Brandy, yes.” He promised as he led her through to the drawing room and offered her a seat in front of the fire. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” Katherine’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes, crinkled at the corners, glowed,

“Now are we discussing brandy, my dear Mr Devon, or are you hoping I will hold my tongue on the matter of my finding your poor, lost demon all alone in the snow?” Cole’s gut clenched at her words, even as they were said in jest.

Jasper had gone with Lores and Liana to the servants’ quarters where Cole knew he would be well cared for, but he wished that Katherine would take her leave so that he could see Jasper alone and start to convince his anxious mind that the demon was truly alive, and not a phantom of his exhaustion.

“I would never wish you to still your tongue,” Cole said smoothly, flirtatiously, “but, yes, I would certainly appreciate it if you would keep my demon’s little escapade out of the rumour mill.” Katherine said nothing, only smiled at him with an eyebrow cocked elegantly, “You know that reputation is so crucial to traditional families like ours.”

“Indeed.” Katherine said, a little sharply, accepting the drink Lores poured her, the liquid in her glass scattering the crackling firelight and seeming to glow all on its own. “I have to say, Cole – may I call you that? – I like you. You’re a little distant, a little rough around the edges, but interesting. And you tell the truth.” She swallowed a mouthful of her drink, “I would very much like for us to be business partners in the future.” Cole struggled not to sigh. He was too tired for this sparring, always too tired.

“Is that so?” Cole managed, “If this is our first transaction, what is the price of your silence?”

“Oh no,” Katherine said, “The demon - I believe you call him Jasper - and my silence are both a gift. I only hope that our relationship will be,” she paused suggestively, “amicable in the future.”

“You are truly generous.” Cole said, “And your hope is mine also.” She had finished her drink and Cole saw her guard slip for a moment as she looked down at the empty crystal, the amber inside now absent. “Would you like another?” He offered, “Winter evenings like these always make me want to warm myself with a few drinks.” Katherine looked at him with that same inscrutable smile,

“And what is your poison of choice?”

“Jenever.” Cole admitted, and then, when Katherine looked attentively confused, he elaborated, “A little known spirit and very palatable when mixed with a little sugar syrup.” Katherine smirked,

“Do introduce us,” she said. Cole smiled through his unease and stood to pull on a bell tug. Lores arrived quickly and Cole sent him to fetch their drinks, scrutinising Katherine as he settled in his seat. She seemed somewhat wilder and more reckless than when they had met at the function, especially now, after a drink, and Cole wondered at it. She didn’t strike him as one to be unsettled easily. “I’m sure you’re wondering how I came about picking up your pet.” She said.

“I am indeed.” Cole said, resting his elbows on his knees as he tried to keep his expression flat and uncaring. “In truth, I thought him dead.” Cole glanced away briefly before forcing his attention back to her, “You must be an enchantress, my lady, or else divine, to have revived him.”

“Oh please,” Katherine said, “call me Katherine, ‘lady’ makes me feel so old. Goodness knows my father reminds me often enough of my increasing age.” Cole frowned lightly in sympathy, starting when there was a gentle knock at the door and Lores appeared with their drinks. It hadn’t escaped Cole’s notice that she still had yet to tell him the circumstances by which Jasper fell into her hands.

“Thank you, Katherine,” he said, “and not to disagree with your father, but I hardly think you’re an old maid.” He was silent for a moment. “My mother also wishes me to marry.” He accepted a glass of Jenever from Lores and swallowed the burning liquid down. Lores silently took the glass from him and handed him a second one, larger but with the alcohol diluted with sugar syrup and water. The servants knew Cole’s habits well and Lores left Cole with the second glass to nurse. Katherine tasted her drink and didn’t so much as grimace, although Cole knew how strong the alcohol was. Either Lores had watered down her drink or Katherine drank frequently. Cole’s mother distained alcohol and the disorderly behaviour it caused, in men but particularly women, though she proclaimed herself forward-thinking and had no hesitations running the company herself. But Cole thought no less of Katherine: far be it that he should judge others for their secrets when god knew his were strange enough.

“And you don’t?” Katherine raised an eyebrow at Cole, “I think I know why that might be.” Cole kept his face carefully even,

“What, other than childish rebellion?” He said weakly. Thus far, only his mother, Kelley and possibly his household staff knew which way he tended. He didn’t care to add Katherine to that already too-long list.

“Yes,” Katherine said, “The right person hasn’t presented themselves yet. And you don’t wish to marry just anyone, for the sake of pleasing your parents,” she winced apologetically, “I’m sorry, your mother.” Cole listened silently. She was more right than she knew, but he was fully aware that it wasn’t really him she was talking about, but herself. “Especially when they believe that you would be lucky to marry even a half-decent bachelor, gambling debts excused if he had a title.” She rolled her eyes contemptuously,

“Why on earth would they think that?” Cole said, “Surely you are quite a prize?” Katherine shot him an incredulous look that Cole didn’t understand,

“I assume you are only being polite,” she said, a little stiffly, “But my family’s dishonour is too great for anyone to consider me a prize.” She sighed heavily, looking suddenly aged, although she was still beautiful in her own, impassioned way, a fact Cole could recognise without wanting in the slightest to sleep with her. Katherine continued quietly, “It’s such a burden to be an only child, don’t you think? To be split between wanting to please them, and hating them for never asking-” She broke off to stare into the fire and then stood abruptly a moment later, dashing a hand over her face.

“Katherine-” Cole realised rather belatedly that he had been so wrapped up in his own secrets that he had hardly considered why Katherine was here or what problems she was battling with,

“My apologies,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. She looked up at the ceiling, just as Cole had done in the porch. “I think I’ve drank too much. I didn’t intend to foist myself on you like this. I’ll leave you be, I’m sure you’d like to reacquaint yourself with that demon of yours.” She tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it and Cole came to his feet, catching her hand as she went to leave. The expression on her face as she glanced down at his hand holding hers was painfully open; a mixture of surprise and desperate hope. Cole released her hand.

“The snow.” Cole said, his voice strained. He coughed to clear it, “You shouldn’t travel at this time of night, it would be incredibly ungentlemanly of me to allow it.”

“Allow?” She said, clearly displeased by his choice of words. Cole hastened to apologise,

“I did not mean to imply- Katherine.” He winced and paused to meet her eyes, “Truly, I respect you very much for your wit and levelheadedness and obvious intelligence. I did not mean to offend you by implying you need my permission when you certainly do not. I only wish you would stay overnight for your safety.” Katherine was smiling at him, though her eyes were still a little watery,

“Bless you, Cole,” she said, “I believe that is the finest apology I have ever received from a man. If you insist, I would certainly not refuse the opportunity to put off that long, arduous journey. Your home is beautiful, but I do wish it was a little less remote.” Cole laughed and picked up a lamp to light their way as he gestured for her to follow him,

“Then I will show to you to your room, since it is only getting later.” She acquiesced and Cole led the way out of the drawing room and across the entrance hall towards the main staircase. “I remember visitors coming when I was a child,” he started softly, as they climbed the stairs, “and they often mentioned how remote and isolated our house was, all by itself on the moor with nothing for miles.” Cole smiled to himself, “My father would always reply by saying that nature breeds stronger sons than any townhouse could, and that it does men good to be reminded that there is a power greater than themselves.” Cole paused, “Our family motto is _vincit qui se vincit_ which, if I remember correctly, translates as something-”

“He prevails who prevails over himself.”

“Yes,” Cole said, surprised, “Exactly. Although I think my father preferred ‘conquer’ because it sounds somewhat more glorious. He was always prideful; everyone tells me so in their own, discreet way.”

“Ours is _Virile agitur_ ,” Katherine said bitterly, “‘The manly thing is being done.’” The motto sounded vaguely familiar but Cole couldn’t place it.

“That motto was made in another time,” he said gently, “society might not be there yet, but certain attitudes have advanced.”

“My father’s has not.” She said sharply. Cole stopped walking and moved to look into her face,

“You will prevail,” he said, with certainty, “if not following the path you are on now, then by some other way. You a strong woman with a brilliant mind, and I for one would be honoured to have you as my ally, if not my friend.” Her smile, when it came, was slow and real,

“I already am.” She said and Cole inclined his head in thanks and showed her to the guest room he thought she’d most like; a beautiful, high-ceilinged room decorated with soft gold and pale purple and lined on one wall with books. It had been his father’s sister’s room – Cole’s aunt, Penelope, although she had died as a teenager and so he had never met her. Cole’s father had forbidden that her room be changed and Cole thought the room beautiful as it was. And since he did not remember his father speaking about her, how Penelope had kept her room was the closest Cole could get to knowing the sweet-faced girl who looked out of the single photograph his father had kept of her.

“If you don’t mind my asking, how did you come across my demon?” Cole said as they arrived at the door of Penelope’s room. Katherine looked surprised for a moment,

“Oh,” she said, “Yes, I meant to tell you earlier. He was found in our stables early this morning by the groom. How on earth he got from here to Falmarrow in the amount of snow we had last night I simply can’t imagine. He was half-way to frost-nip.”

“Falmarrow?” Cole repeated, interrupting her, “Falmarrow estate? Surely you’re not Forest Myer’s daughter?” Katherine stared at him,

“I thought you knew.” She said, dropping her eyes to the floor, “Cole, I-” the look in her face was utterly despairing but Cole could think of nothing to say to her. She was Forest Myer’s daughter? Katherine must have taken his silence as rejection, “If you’d rather I didn’t stay-”

“Stop, stop,” Cole said quickly, “of course you’re staying, I wouldn’t send someone I loathed out in that weather, and you are far from loathsome, Katherine. I just- I’m sorry, I never made the connection, although I see now that you have his hair.” Dark as the devil’s and thick as that family’s web of lies.

The Myers was an old, stubborn family similar in heritage to the Devons in that their roots were dug into the soil of this land as far down as they could be traced. But where the Devons historically valued honour and morality even in their avarice, Katherine Myer’s inheritance was a name that was synonymous for betrayal, drunkenness and bad fortune. Lies, abuse and murder, within the family and without. The last incident had been three decades or more ago, when Samantha Myers, only barely a woman, committed suicide after years of suffering her brother’s abuse. The whole story had been revealed in her diary found on her corpse by the vicar in whose church she was found dead. Suicides being generally revered by the church as a shortcut to the gods’ side, she was given a full ceremony and buried in a place of honour, but her brother was shunned by the community as a monster, and proof of the family’s curse.

“Your father is Samantha Myers’ brother.” He said slowly, aloud. Katherine grimaced and looked away,

“I never intended to mislead you,” she gritted out. Cole waved it away,

“Of course not,” he said, rubbing his face tiredly, “I was being dense. I’ve been rather distracted recently.” He looked past her, lost in his thoughts, “We can talk more tomorrow at breakfast, but Katherine,” she met his eyes, resigned, “I am not a superstitious man, I don’t believe in this supposed curse your family has hanging over it, and neither would I hold someone’s parentage against them. My mother cares greatly for the Devons’ family reputation so I cannot promise she will be friendly towards you, but I still respect and admire you for the same reasons I mentioned earlier: more so, now that I know what you have been up against your whole life.” He shook his head, “It has been a long, strange day, but I thank you for taking the trouble to come by and I hope my idiocy has not dented your opinion of me.” Katherine brushed her hair away from her face,

“Not in the slightest.” She said quietly, “At first you only intrigued me, which is rare enough, but if your actions follow your words, I do believe you might earn my respect. Goodnight, Mr Devon, I have enjoyed your company very much.”

“And I yours.” Cole stepped away as she closed the door with a final, sad smile. He drew an unsteady breath and made the long walk down to the servants’ quarters where he knocked on the kitchen door before entering. It was late and the kitchen was empty, bar a stranger stood with her back to him, wiping down the counters,

“I am surprised to find someone awake, and still working.” Cole said. It was not like Liana to set someone so much work that they would still be unfinished at this time of night. The woman spun around and Cole took an involuntary step backwards,

“Circe.” He remembered after a laden pause; the demon female he had unintentionally acquired, “We haven’t had a chance to talk yet.” Circe, if that was her name, fiddled with the cloth in her hands. She was the opposite to Jasper’s rigid stillness and showed her nervousness quite obviously, “You needn’t be scared.” Cole said, when she didn’t speak, “I was just looking for Jasper.” A switch seemed to flick in her and she took two angry steps towards him,

“You stay the hell away from him!” She said furiously, “You’re sick, sadistic bastard and I won’t let you hurt him!” Cole stared at her,

“What has he told you?” He said finally, his voice sticking in his throat. Was that what Jasper thought of him?

“He told me enough to know that you are just like all the terrible humans I’ve heard about, and worse because you lied to him! You pretended-”

“I didn’t pretend.” Cole snapped, angry at her accusations and at himself. He sighed when Circe drew her arms sharply towards herself and stared at him with wide, wary eyes. “I never meant to hurt him.” He said, “But I didn’t come here to explain myself to you: where’s Jasper?”

“I won’t-”

“You will!” Cole roared, sick and tired of being denied and taunted, by fate and by other people, “You will because this is my home and you belong to me, and because I need to make things right with him!”

“Master Devon?” Liana emerged from her room, set back from the kitchen, where she slept. Another door clicked open and Jasper stepped forward, looking not mussed and bleary with sleep like Liana, but sharply aware.

“Cole.” He said quietly and Cole saw his eyes skip over Cole’s face, presumably taking in the bruise that was still there. Cole could only stare, Jasper meeting his eyes resolutely.

“We need to talk.”

“Yes.” Jasper seemed perfectly collected and in the face of it, Cole felt like a mess and he looked away as he tried to gather himself. He should not have had the alcohol. “We should go to your room.” Jasper said tightly, after a moment had passed. Cole looked up, surprised,

“But-”

“I am not doing this here.” Jasper said.

“Jasper-” Circe seemed to be pleading,

“Enough, its fine.” Jasper snapped at her and Circe immediately stepped aside, although the look she shot Cole was murderous.

“Did you really tell her that?” Cole asked Jasper, struggling to keep the hurt from his voice. He was glad, in a way, that Jasper had found someone he could confide in, but it still hurt. “Is that what you think of me?” Jasper shot Circe an angry glance before returning his attention to Cole,

“I don’t know what she said,” Jasper started, “But may we do this somewhere else?” Jasper was pleading with him, something the demon had never done, and Cole nodded slowly,

“Yes, of course.” He had time to see Circe’s wide-eyed hatred and Liana’s concern before he turned, in a daze, to walk up to his room, Jasper following him almost silently.

As soon as they were both in the room, Cole started to pace. Jasper wasn’t looking at him but stood silently, motionless.

“I know I broke our agreement,” Cole said finally, “and I’m sorry. I never meant to leave you alone.” Jasper glared at him,

“You and your pretty words.” He said softly. Cole’s shoulders sunk and he looked at the floor,

“I’ve done nothing but regret my actions since you ran.”

“You don’t give a fuck about me.” Jasper retorted.

“That’s not true. I know your distain for me but I don’t return it.” Cole could see in Jasper’s expression that he wasn’t listening, dismissing Cole. Jasper’s hatred made Cole so weary, “You broke your word, too.” He said finally. Jasper glared at him,

“I didn’t.” Cole watched Jasper’s face,

“You swore not to harm me or my household-” Cole said.

“No.” Jasper said, with absolute certainty, “I didn’t.”

“You-”

“I did not break my word!” Jasper shouted, startling Cole. Jasper took an uneven breath, “You specified your staff, any guests to your house, including Circe. You never said anything about yourself.”

“Oh.” Cole said quietly. He didn’t think Jasper was lying, not for the vehemence of his response. “I suppose not, but was it not part of our agreement that we would be civil-”

“Civil?” Jasper snarled, “You wanted me to be civil when Jean-Claud trod on my throat. You wanted me to be civil when you walked me over a six-foot drop, blindfolded. When I was collared, and groped-” Jasper growled and turned away, shaking with anger, and what Cole guessed was humiliation.

“That was our agreement,” Cole said, pushing away his own hurt at Jasper’s restless unhappiness, “You knew what you were agreeing to.” Cole threw out his arm, his voice rising, “And if you didn’t, if you wanted out, we had a warning system, didn’t we?” He could hear the pleading in his voice, the need for reassurance, and he hated it, “I’m- really sorry about Kelley’s sick games-”

“Stop!” Jasper yelled, breathing hard, his hands shaking. He looked to be on the edge of some act of violence and Cole closed his mouth. So what if Jasper had known what he’d been walking into? Cole hadn’t given him much choice, had he? He rubbed his face tiredly and shook his head,

“Who is Jean-Claud?” He asked finally. He cursed himself for not realising earlier how fragile Jasper was behind his façade of taciturnity. The consequences of Jasper’s escape could have been so much worse. Cole had been gambling Jasper in the hope of improving his reputation and that thought sickened him. No business, not even his father’s, was worth Jasper’s life.

“You have no right to know my past,” Jasper said, breaking into Cole’s thoughts, “no more than you have to ‘own’ me.” Flecks of spittle caught Cole’s cheek and jaw. “Filthy oath-breaker.”

“I had glass in my hand.” Cole said defensively, “How could I have known we’d be separated like that?” He demanded, “Why didn’t you stick closer to my side?”

“I couldn’t.” Jasper growled, his eyes black and glittering in the low light, “I did not break my word. _You_ did. You may consider our arrangement over,” he said, clipped, his expression final, “and if that means chains, then so be it.”

Cole swallowed and looked down at the floor. His skin prickled hotly and his eyes stung. He felt like a small child being scolded by his mother for disturbing his father while he was working: filled with indignation, but also shame, and hurt and loneliness.

“I’m glad you’re alive.” He said finally, stiffly, and turned towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Jasper grabbed his arm, his grip hot and vice-like. “Why aren’t you-” _angry_ , Cole filled in when Jasper didn’t finish. So Jasper had been expecting him to be furious, to punish him, probably. That was why he didn’t want it to be in the kitchen, where there would have been an audience, or at least listening ears.

“Why did you wait until we were in the carriage to hit me?” Cole said, not meeting Jasper’s eyes, “If you were so furious with me, why not do it in the hall, or when I was with Katherine?” Jasper looked at him coldly, letting go of Cole’s arm to gesture angrily,

“Did you listen to anything I just said?” He said, “I _do not_ break my word. And we had an agreement.”

“I see.” Cole said quietly and turned to walk away. This time, Jasper didn’t try to stop him and Cole made his way silently, unhindered, to the study, where there was still a small fire glowing in the huge, dark cavern of the fireplace.

Cole stoked it mechanically and added more logs from the scuttle. Moving slowly, he took several blankets from the chest by the divan and lay down.

In his head, Jasper taunted him, spitting out the hate that he’d said to Cole’s face and things he couldn’t possibly have known, created by Cole’s own torturous imagination. He slept uneasily and woke twice during the night to stare at the vaulted ceiling. It made him feel terribly alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found this chapter pretty damn hard to write - apologies it's been so long! Any thoughts would be very welcome <3

**Author's Note:**

> I have a Tumblr under sauvage-loup, come say hi!


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